LIBRARY 

OF  THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

GIKT  OR 


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Accession  No.         L  3  .    Clcus  No. 


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LIBRARY 

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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

WHAT  DREAMS  MAY  COME 

HERMIA  SUYDAM 

Los  CERRITOS 

MRS.  PENDLETON'S  FOUR-IN-HAND 


THE  DOOMSWOMAN 


' 
GERTRUDE ,  ATHERTON 


"  For  it  is  believed  that  the  woman  who  is  twin  is  also  the  woman  of  doom; 
that  in  her  doth  abide  the  power  to  heal  and  to  curse ;  to  give  and  to  know  the 
highest  joy  and  deepest  sorrow ;  her  love  exalts,  her  hate  blasts;  in  her  nature 
is  iron  and  fire,  and  the  fire  shall  melt  the  iron  ;  calm  is  not  her  lot  nor  the  lot  of 
those  whose  fate  is  hers — and  so  unto  the  end." — Old  Spanish  MSS. 


NEW  YORK 

TAIT,  SONS  &  COMPANY 

UNION  SQUARE 


COPYRIGHT,  1893,  BY 
GERTRUDE   ATHERTON 


[All  rights  reserved} 

-  i 


TROW   DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


Uo 

STEPHEN  FRANKLIN 


THE    DOOMSWOMAN. 


I. 

IT  was  at  Governor  Alvarado's  house  in 
Monterey  that  Chonita  first  .knew  of  Diego 
Estenega.  I  had  told  him  much  of  her,  but  had 
never  cared  to  mention  the  name  of  Estenega 
in  the  presence  of  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada. 

Chonita  came  to  Monterey  to  stand  god- 
mother to  the  child  of  Alvarado  and  of  her  friend 
Dona  Martina,  his  wife.  She  arrived  the  morn- 
ing before  the  christening,  and  no  one  thought 
to  tell  her  that  Estenega  was  to  be  godfather. 
The  house  was  full  of  girls,  relatives  of  the 
young  mother,  gathered  for  the  ceremony  and 
subsequent  week  of  festivities.  Benicia,  my 
little  one,  was  at  the  rancho  with  Ysabel  Her- 
rera,  and  I  was  staying  with  the  Alvarados. 
So  many  were  the  guests  that  Chonita  and  I 
slept  together.  We  had  not  seen  each  other  for 
a  year,  and  had  so  much  to  say  that  we  did  not 


8  The  Doomswoman. 

sleep  at  all.  She  was  ten  years  younger  than  I, 
but  we  were  as  close  friends  as  she  with  her 
alternate  frankness  and  reserve  would  permit. 
But  I  had  spent  several  months  of  each  year 
since  childhood  at  her  home  in  Santa  Barbara, 
and  I  knew  her  better  than  she  knew  herself ; 
when,  later,  I  read  her  journal,  I  found  little  in 
it  to  surprise  me,  but  much  to  fill  and  cover 
with  shapely  form  the  skeleton  of  the  story 
which  passed  in  greater  part  before  my  eyes. 

We  were  discussing  the  frivolous  mysteries 
of  dress,  if  I  remember  aright,  when  she  laid 
her  hand  on  my  mouth  suddenly. 

"Hush!  "  she  said. 

A  caballero  serenaded  his  lady  at  midnight 
in  Monterey. 

The  tinkle  of  a  guitar,  the  jingling  of  spurs, 
fell  among  the  strong  tones  of  a  man's  voice. 

Chonita  had  been  serenaded  until  she  had 
fled  to  the  mountains  for  sleep,  but  she  crept 
to  the  foot  of  the  bed  and  knelt  there,  her  hand 
at  her  throat.  A  door  opened,  and,  one  by  one, 
out  of  the  black  beyond,  five  white-robed  forms 
flitted  into  the  room.  They  looked  like  puffs 
of  smoke  from  a  burning  moon.  The  heavy 
wooden  shutters  were  open,  and  the  room 
was  filled  with  cold  light. 

The  girls  waltzed  on  the  bare  floor,  grouped 


The  Doomswoman.  9 

themselves  in  mock-dramatic  postures,  then, 
overcome  by  the  strange  magnetism  of  the 
singer,  fell  into  motionless  attitudes,  listening 
intently.  How  well  I  remember  that  picture, 
although  I  have  almost  forgotten  the  names  of 
the  girls  ! 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  two  slender  figures 
embraced  each  other,  their  black  hair  falling 
loosely  over  their  white  gowns.  On  the  win- 
dow-step knelt  a  tall  girl,  her  head  pensively 
supported  by  her  hand,  a  black  shawl  draped 
gracefully  about  her  ;  at  her  feet  sat  a  girl 
with  head  bowed  to  her  knees.  Between  the 
two  groups  was  a  solitary  figure,  kneeling  with 
hand  pressed  to  the  wall  and  face  uplifted. 

When  the  voice  ceased  I  struck  a  match,  and 
five  pairs  of  little  hands  applauded  enthusi- 
astically. He  sang  them  another  song,  then 
galloped  away. 

"It  is  Don  Diego  Estenega,"  said  one  of  the 
girls.  "  He  rarely  sings,  but  I  have  heard  him 
before." 

"An  Estenega  !  "  exclaimed  Chonita. 

"Yes;  of  the  North,  thoti  knowest.  His 
Excellency  thinks  there  is  no  man  in  the  Cali- 
fornias  like  him, — so  bold  and  so  smart.  Thou 
rememberest  the  books  that  were  burned  by  the 
priests  when  the  governor  was  a  boy,  because 


io  The  Doomswoman. 

he  had  dared  to  read  them,  no  ?  Well,  when 
Diego  Estenega  heard  of  that,  he  made  his 
father  send  to  Boston  and  Mexico  for  those 
books  and  many  more,  and  took  them  up  to  his 
redwood  forests  in  the  north,  far  away  from  the 
priests.  And  they  say  he  had  read  other  books 
before,  although  such  a  lad  ;  his  father  had 
brought  them  from  Spain,  and  never  cared  much 
for  the  priests.  And  he  has  been  to  Mexico 
and  America  and  Europe  !  God  of  my  soul  !  it 
is  said  that  he  knows  more  than  his  Excellency 
himself, — that  his  mind  works  faster.  Ay  ! 
but  there  was  a  time  when  he  was  wild, — when 
the  mescal  burnt  his  throat  like  hornets  and 
the  aguardiente  was  like  scorpions  in  his  brain  ; 
but  that  was  long  ago,  before  he  was  twenty  ; 
now  he  is  thirty-four.  He  amuses  himself 
sometimes  with  the  girls, — valgame  Dios  /  he 
has  made  hot  tears  flow, — but  I  suppose  we  do 
not  know  enough  for  him,  for  he  marries  none. 
Ay  !  but  he  has  a  charm." 

"Like  what  does  he  look  ?  A  beautiful  cab- 
allero,  I  suppose,  with  eyes  that  melt  and  a 
mouth  that  trembles  like  a  woman  in  the 
palsy." 

"  Ay,  no,  my  Chonita  ;  thou  art  wrong.  He 
is  not  beautiful  at  all.  He  is  rather  haggard, 
and  wears  no  mustache,  and  he  has  the  pro- 


The  Doomswoman.  n 

file  of  the  great  man,  fine  and  aquiline  and 
severe,  excepting  when  he  smiles,  and  then 
sometimes  he  looks  kind  and  sometimes  he 
looks  like  a  devil.  He  has  not  the  beauty  of 
color  ;  his  hair  is  brown,  I  think,  and  his  eyes 
are  gray,  and  set  far  back  ;  but  how  they  flash  ! 
I  think  they  could  burn  if  they  looked  too  long. 
He  is  tall  and  straight  and  very  strong,  not  so 
indolent  as  most  of  our  men.  They  call  him 
The  American  because  he  moves  so  quickly  and 
gets  so  cross  when  people  do  not  think  fast 
enough.  77<?  thinks  like  lightning  strikes.  Ay! 
they  all  say  that  he  will  be  governor  in  his 
time  ;  that  he  would  have  been  long  ago,  but 
he  has  been  away  so  much.  It  must  be  that 
he  has  seen  and  admired  thee,  my  Chonita,  and 
discovered  thy  grating.  Thou  art  happy  that 
thou  too  hast  read  the  books.  Thou  and  he  will 
be  great  friends,  I  know  !  " 

' '  Yes  !  "  exclaimed  Chonita,  scornfully.  ' '  It 
is  likely.  Thou  hast  forgotten — perhaps — the 
enmity  between  the  Capulets  and  the  Mon- 
tagues was  a  sallow  flame  to  the  bitter  hatred, 
born  of  jealousy  in  love,  politics,  and  social 
precedence,  which  exists  between  the  Este 
negas  and  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas?" 


12  The  Doomswoman. 


II. 


DELFINA,  the  first  child  of  Alvarado,  born  in 
the  purple  at  the  governor's  mansion  in  Mon- 
terey, was  about  to  be  baptized  with  all  the 
pomp  and  ceremony  of  the  Church  and  time. 
Dona  Martina,  the  wife  of  a  year,  was  unable 
to  go  to  the  church,  but  lay  beneath  her  lace 
and  satin  coverlet,  her  heavy  black  hair  half 
covering  the  other  side  of  the  bed.  Beside  her 
stood  the  nurse,  a  fat,  brown,  high-beaked 
old  crone,  holding  a  mass  of  grunting  lace.  I 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  admiring  the 
picture. 

"Be  careful  for  the  sun,  Tomasa," said  the 
mother.  "Her  eyes  must  be  strong,  like  the 
Alvarados', — black  and  keen  and  strong." 

"  Sure,  senora." 

"And  let  her  not  smother,  nor  yet  take  cold. 
She  must  grow  tall  and  strong, — like  the  Alva- 
rados." 

' '  Sure,  senora. " 

"Where  is  his  Excellency  ?  " 

' '  I   am   here. "  And   Alvarado    entered    the 


The  Doomswoman.  13 

room.  He  looked  amused,  and  probably  had 
overheard  the  conversation.  He  justified, 
however,  the  admiration  of  his  young  wife. 
His  tall  military  figure  had  the  perfect  poise 
and  suggestion  of  power  natural  to  a  man 
whose  genius  had  been  recognized  by  the  Mex- 
ican government  before  he  had  entered  his 
twenties.  The  clean-cut  face,  with  its  calm 
profile  and  fiery  eyes,  was  not  that  of  the 
•Washington  of  his  emulation,  and  I  never  un- 
derstood why  he  chose  so  tame  a  model.  Per- 
haps because  of  the  meagerness  of  that  early 
proscribed  literature  ;  or  did  the  title  ' '  Father 
of  his  Country "  appeal  irresistibly  to  that 
lofty  and  doomed  ambition  ? 

He  passed  his  hand  over  his  wife's  long 
white  fingers,  but  did  not  offer  her  any  other 
caress  in  my  presence. 

"How  dost  thou  feel  ?  " 

"  Well ;  but  I  shall  be  lonely.  Do  not  stay 
long  at  the  church,  no  ?  How  glad  I  am  that 
Chonita  came  in  time  for  the  christening ! 
What  a  beautiful  comadre  she  will  be  !  I  have 
just  seen  her.  Ay,  poor  Diego  !  he  will  fall  in 
love  with  her  ;  and  what  then  ?  " 

"It  would  have  been  better  had  she  come 
too  late,  I  think.  To  avoid  asking  Diego  to 
stand  for  my  first  child  was  impossible,  for  he 


14  The  Doomswoman. 

is  the  man  of  men  to  me.  To  avoid  asking 
Dona  Chonita  was  equally  impossible,  I  sup- 
pose, and  it  will  be  painful  for  both.  He  ser- 
enaded her  last  night,  not  knowing  who  she 
was,  but  having  seen  her  at  her  grating  ;  he 
only  returned  yesterday.  I  hope  she  plants  no 
thorns  in  his  heart. " 

"Perhaps  they  will  marry  and  bind  the 
wounds, "  suggested  the  woman. 

"  An  Estenega  and  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  will 
not  marry.  He  might  forget,  for  he  is  passion- 
ate and  of  a  nature  to  break  down  barriers 
when  a  wish  is  dear ;  but  she  has  all  the 
wrongs  of  all  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas  on  her 
white  shoulders,  and  all  their  pride  in  the  car- 
riage of  her  head  ;  to  say  nothing  of  that  brother 
whom  she  adores.  She  learned  this  morning 
that  it  was  Diego's  determined  opposition  that 
kept  Reinaldo  out  of  the  Departmental  Junta, 
and  meets  him  in  no  tender  frame  of  mind " 

Dona  Martina  raised  her  hand.  Chonita 
stood  in  the  door-way.  She  was  quite  beauti- 
ful enough  to  plant  thorns  where  she  listed. 
Her  tall  supple  figure  was  clothed  in  white, 
and  over  her  gold  hair — lurid  and  brilliant,  but 
without  a  tinge  of  red — she  wore  a  white  lace 
mantilla.  Her  straight  narrow  brows  and 
heavy  lashes  were  black  ;  but  her  skin  was 


The  Doomswoman.  15 

more  purely  white  than  her  gown.  Her  nose 
was  finely  cut,  the  arch  almost  indiscernible, 
and  she  had  the  most  sculptured  mouth  I  have 
ever  seen.  Her  long  eyes  were  green,  dark, 
and  luminous.  Sometimes  they  had  the  look 
of  a  child,  sometimes  she  allowed  them  to  flash 
with  the  fire  of  an  animated  spirit.  But  the 
expression  she  chose  to  cultivate  was  that  asso- 
ciated with  crowned  head  and  sceptered  hand; 
and  sure  no  queen  had  ever  looked  so  calm, 
so  inexorable,  so  haughty,  so  terribly  clear  of 
vision.  She  never  posed — for  any  one,  at  least, 
but  herself.  For  some  reason — a  youthful  rea- 
son probably — the  iron  in  her  nature  was  most 
admired  by  her.  Wherefore, — also,  as  she  had 
the  power,  as  twin,  to  heal  and  curse, — I  had 
named  her  the  Doomswoman,  and  by  this  name 
she  was  known  far  and  wide.  By  the  lower  class 
of  Santa  Barbara  she  was  called  The  Golden  Sefi- 
orita,  on  account  of  her  hair  and  of  her  father's 
vast  wealth. 

"Come,"  she  said,  "every  one  is  waiting-. 
Do  not  you  hear  the  voices  ?  " 

The  windows  were  closed,  but  through 
them  came  a  murmur  like  that  of  a  pine 
forest. 

The    governor   motioned   to    the   nurse    to 


1 6  The  Doomswoman. 

follow  Chonita  and  myself,  and  she  trotted 
after  us,  her  ugly  face  beaming  with  pride  of 
position.  Was  not  in  her  arms  the  oldest-born 
of  a  new  generation  of  Alvarados  ?  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  governor  of  The  Californias  ?  Her 
smock,  embroidered  with  silk,  was  new,  and 
looked  whiter  than  fog  against  her  bare  brown 
arms  and  face.  Her  short  red  satin  skirt,  a 
gift  of  her  happy  lady's,  was  the  finest  ever 
worn  by  exultant  nurse.  About  her  stringy 
old  throat  was  a  gold  chain,  bright  red  roses 
were  woven  in  her  black  reboso.  I  saw  her 
admire  Chonita's  stately  figure  with  scornful 
reserve  of  the  colorless  gown. 

We  were  followed  in  a  moment  by  the  gov- 
ernor, adjusting  his  collar  and  smoothing  his 
hair.  As  he  reached  the  door-way  at  the  front 
of  the  house  he  was  greeted  with  a  shout  from 
assembled  Monterey.  The  plaza  was  gay 
with  beaming  faces  and  bright  attire.  The 
men,  women,  and  children  of  the  people  were 
on  foot,  a  mass  of  color  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  plaza  :  the  women  in  gaudy  cotton 
frocks  girt  with  silken  sashes,  tawdry  jewels, 
and  spotless  camisas,  the  coquettish  reboso 
draping  with  equal  grace  faces  old  and  brown, 
faces  round  and  olive  ;  the  men  in  glazed  som- 
breros, short  calico  jackets  and  trousers  ;  In- 


The  Doomsiuoman.  17 

dians  wound  up  in  gala  blankets.  In  the  fore- 
ground, on  prancing  silver  trapped  horses,  were 
caballeros  and  donas,  laughing  and  coquet- 
ting, looking  down  in  triumph  upon  the 
duenas  and  parents  who  rode  older  and  milder 
mustangs  and  shook  brown  knotted  ringers  at 
heedless  youth.  The  young  men  had  ribbons 
twisted  in  their  long  black  hair,  and  silver 
eagles  on  their  soft  gray  sombreros.  Their 
velvet  serapes  were  embroidered  with  gold  ; 
the  velvet  knee-breeches  were  laced  with  gold 
or  silver  cord  over  fine  white  linen  ;  long 
deerskin  botas  were  gartered  with  vivid 
ribbon  ;  flaunting  sashes  bound  their  slender 
waists,  knotted  over  the  hip.  The  girls  and 
young  married  women  wore  black  or  white 
mantillas,  the  silken  lace  of  Spain,  regardless 
of  the  sun  which  might  darken  their  Castilian 
fairness.  Their  gowns  were  of  flowered  silk 
or  red  or  yellow  satin,  the  waist  long  and 
pointed,  the  skirt  full  ;  jeweled  buckles  of  tiny 
slippers  flashed  beneath  the  hem.  The  old 
people  were  in  rich  dress  of  sober  color.  A 
few  Americans  were  there  in  the  ugly  garb  of 
their  country,  a  blot  on  the  picture. 

At  the  door,  just  in  front  of  the  cavalcade, 
stood  General  Vallejo's  carriage,  the  only  one 
in  California,  sent  from  Sonoma  for  the  occa- 
2 


1 8  The  Doomswoman. 

sion.  Beside  it  were  three  superbly-trapped 
horses. 

The  governor  placed  the  swelling-  nurse  in 
the  carriage,  then  .glanced  about  him.  ''Where 
is  Estenega  ? — and  the  Castros  ?  "  he  asked. 

"There  are  Don  Jose  and  Dona  Modeste 
Castro,"  said  Chonita. 

The  crowd  had  parted  suddenly,  and  two 
men  and  a  woman  rode  toward  the  governor. 
One  of  the  men  was  tall  and  dark,  and  his 
somber  military  attire  became  the  stern  sad- 
ness of  his  face.  Castro  was  not  Comandante- 
general  of  the  army  at  that  time,  but  his  bear- 
ing was  as  imperious  in  that  year  of  1840  as 
when  six  years  later  the  American  Occupation 
closed  forever  the  career  of  a  man  made  in 
derision  for  greatness.  At  his  right  rode  his 
wife,  one  of  the  most  queenly  beauties  of  her 
time,  small  as  she  was  in  stature.  Every  wo- 
man's eye  turned  to  her  at  once  ;  she  was  our 
leader  of  fashion,  and  we  all  copied  the  gowns 
that  came  to  her  from  the  city  of  Mexico. 

But  Chonita  gave  no  heed  to  the  Castros. 
She  fixed  her  cold  direct  regard  on  the  man 
who  rode  with  them,  and  whom,  she  knew, 
must  be  Diego  Estenega,  for  he  was  their 
guest.  She  was  curious  to  see  this  enemy  of 
her  house,  the  political  rival  of  her  brother,  the 


:VERSITY 


The  Doomswoman.  19 

owner  of  the  voice  which  had  given  her  the 
first  thrill  of  her  life.  He  was  dressed  as 
plainly  as  Castro,  and  had  none  of  the  rich 
southern  beauty  of  the  caballeros.  His  hair 
was  cut  short  like  Alvarado's,  and  his  face  was 
thin  and  almost  sallow.  But  the  life  that  was  in 
that  face  !  the  passion,  the  intelligence,  the 
kindness,  the  humor,  the  grim  determination  ! 
And  what  splendid  vitality  was  in  his  tall  thin 
figure,  and  nervous  activity  under  the  repose 
of  his  carriage  !  I  remember  I  used  to  think 
in  those  days  that  Diego  Estenega  could  con- 
quer the  world  if  he  wished,  although  I  sus- 
pected that  he  lacked  one  quality  of  the  great 
rulers  of  men, — inexorable  cruelty. 

From  the  moment  his  horse  carried  him  into 
the  plaza  he  did  not  remove  his  eyes  from 
Chonita's  face.  She  lowered  hers  angrily  after 
a  moment.  As  he  reached  the  house  he  sprang 
to  the  ground,  and  Alvarado  presented  the 
sponsors.  He  lifted  his  cap  and  bowed,  but 
not  as  low  as  the  caballeros  who  were  wont  to 
prostrate  themselves  before  her.  They  mur- 
mured the  usual  form  of  salutation  : 

"At  your  feet,  senorita." 

"I  appreciate  the  honor  of  your  acquaint- 
ance." 

"It  is  my  duty  and  pleasure  to  lift  you  to 


20  The  Doomswoman. 

your  horse.''  And,  still  holding  his  cap  in  his 
hand,  he  led  her  to  one  of  the  three  horses 
which  stood  beside  the  carriage  ;  with  little 
assistance  she  sprang  to  its  back,  and  he 
mounted  the  one  reserved  for  him. 

The  cavalcade  started.  First  the  carriage, 
then  Alvarado  and  myself,  followed  by  the 
sponsors,  the  Castros,  the  members  of  the  De- 
partmental Junta  and  their  wives,  then  the 
caballeros  and  the  donas,  the  old  people  and 
the  Americans  ;  the  populace  trudging  gayly 
in  the  rear,  keeping  good  pace  with  the  riders, 
who  were  held  in  check  by  a  fragment  of  pulp  too 
young  to  be  jolted. 

11  You  never  have  been  in  Monterey  before, 
senorita,  I  understand,"  said  Estenega  to  Cho- 
nita.  No  situation  could  embarrass  him. 

''No  ;  once  they  thought  to  send  me  to  the 
convent  here,. — to  Dona  Concepcion  Arguello, 
• — but  it  was  so  far,  and  my  mother  does  not 
like  to  travel.  So  Dona  Concepcion  came  to 
us  for  a  year,  and,  after,  I  studied  with  an  in- 
structor who  came  from  Mexico  to  educate  my 
brother  and  me/'  She  had  no  intention  of  be- 
ing communicative  with  Diego  Estenega,  but 
his  keen  reflective  gaze  confused  her,  and  she 
took  refuge  in  words. 

"  Dona  Eustaquia  tells  me  that,  unlike  most 


The  Doom  swam  an.  21 

of  our  women,  you  have  read  many  books.  Few 
Californian  women  care  for  anything  but  to  look 
beautiful  and  to  marry,  —  not,  however,  being 
unique  in  that  respect.  Would  you  not  rather 
live  in  our  capital?  You  are  so  far  away  down 
there,  and  there  are  but  few  of  the  gente  de  razon, 
no?" 

''We  are  well  satisfied,  senor,  and  we  are 
gay  when  we  wish.  There  are  ten  families  in 
the  town,  and  many  rancheros  within  a  hun- 
dred leagues.  They  think  nothing  of  com- 
ing to  our  balls.  And  we  have  grand  religious 
processions,  and  bull-fights,  and  races.  We 
have  beautiful  canons  for  meriendas  ;  and  I 
could  dance  every  night  if  I  wished.  We  arc 
few,  but  we  are  quite  as  gay  and  quite  as  happy 
as  you  in  your  capital."  The  pride  of  the  Itur- 
bi  y  Moncadas  and  of  the  Barbarina  flashed 
in  her  eyes,  then  made  way  for  anger  under 
the  amused  glance  of  Estenega. 

"Oh,  of  course,  "he  said,  teasingly.  "You 
are  to  Monterey  what  Monterey  is  to  the  city 
of  Mexico.  But,  pardon  me,  senorita  ;  I  would 
not  anger  you  for  all  the  gold  which  is  said  to 
lie  like  rocks  under  our  Californias, — if  it  be 
true  that  certain  padres  hold  that  mighty  se- 
cret. (God  !  how  I  should  like  to  get  one  by 
the  throat  and  throttle  it  out  of  him  !)  Pardon 


22  The  Doomswoman. 

me  again,  senorita  ;  I  was  going  to  say  that 
you  may  be  pleased  to  know  that  there  is  little 
magnificence  where  my  ranches  are, — high  on 
the  coast,  among  the  redwoods.  I  live  in  a 
house  made  of  big  ugly  logs,  unpainted. 
There  are  no  cavalcades  in  the  cold  depths  of 
those  redwood  forests,  and  the  ocean  beats 
against  ragged  cliffs.  Only  at  Fort  Ross,  in  her 
log  palace,  does  the  beautiful  Russian,  Princess 
Helene  Rotscheff,  strive  occasionally  to  make 
herself  and  others  forget  that  the  forest  is  not  the 
Bois  of  her  beloved  Paris,  that  in  it  the  grizzly 
and  the  panther  hunger  for  her,  and  that  an  Ind- 
ian Prince,  mad  with  love  for  the  only  fair-haired 
woman  he  has  ever  seen,  is  determined  to  carry 
her  off " 

"  Tell  me  !  tell  me  !  "  cried  Chonita,  eagerly, 
forgetting  her  role  and  her  enemy.  "What  is 
that  ?  I  do  not  know  the  princess,  although  she 
has  sent  me  word  many  times  to  visit  her — 
Did  an  Indian  try  to  carry  her  off? " 

"It  happened  only  the  other  day.  Prince 
Solano,  perhaps  you  have  heard,  is  chief  of  all 
the  tribes  of  Sonoma,  Valley  of  the  Moon.  He 
is  a  handsome  animal,  with  a  strong  will  and 
remarkable  organizing  abilities.  One  day  I 
was  entertaining  the  Rotscheffs  at  dinner  when 
Solano  suddenly  flung  the  door  open  and  strode 


The  Doomswoman.  23 

into  the  room  :  we  are  old  friends,  and  my 
servants  do  not  stand  on  ceremony  with  him. 
As  he  caught  sight  of  the  princess  he  halted 
abruptly,  stared  at  her  for  a  moment,  much  as 
the  first  man  may  have  stared  at  the  first 
woman,  then  turned  and  left  the  house,  sprang 
on  his  mustang  and  galloped  away.  The 
princess,  you  must  know,  is  as  blonde  as  only 
a  Russian  can  be,  and  an  extremely  pretty 
woman,  small  and  dainty.  No  wonder  the 
mighty  prince  of  darkness  took  fire.  She  was 
much  amused.  So  was  Rotscheff,  and  he  joked 
her  the  rest  of  the  evening.  Before  he  left, 
however,  I  had  a  word  with  him  alone,  and 
warned  him  not  to  let  the  princess  stray  be- 
yond the  walls  of  the  fortress.  That  same 
night  I  sent  a  courier  to  General  Vallejo — 
who,  fortunately,  was  at  Sonoma — bidding  him 
watch  Solano.  And,  sure  enough — the  day  I 
left  for  Monterey  the  Princess  Helene  was  in 
hysterics,  Rotscheff  was  swearing  like  a  mad- 
man, and  a  soldier  was  at  every  carronade  : 
word  had  just  come  from  General  Vallejo  that 
he  had  that  morning  intercepted  Solano  in  his 
triumphant  march,  at  the  head  of  six  tribes, 
upon  Fort  Ross,  and  sent  him  flying  back  to 
his  mountain-top  in  disorder  and  bitterness 
of  spirit." 


24  Tlie  Doomswoman. 

"That  is  very  interesting-  \"  cried  Chonita. 
"  I  like  that.  What  an  experience  those  Rus- 
sians have  had  !  That  terrible  tragedy  ! — Ah,  I 
remember,  it  was  you  who  were  to  have  aided 
Natalie  Ivanhoff  in  her  escape " 

' '  Hush  !  "  said  Estenega.  ' '  Do  not  speak  of 
that.  Here  we  are.  At  your  service,  sefio- 
rita. "  He  sprang  to  the  whaleboned  pavement 
in  front  of  the  little  church  facing  the  blue  bay 
and  surrounded  by  the  gray  ruins  of  the  old 
Presidio,  and  lifted  her  down. 

Chonita  recalled,  and  angry  with  herself  for 
having  been  beguiled  by  her  enemy,  took  the 
infant  from  the  nurse's  arms  and  carried  it  fear- 
fully up  the  aisle.  Estenega,  walking  beside  her, 
regarded  her  meditatively. 

"What  is  she  ?  "  he  thought,  "this  Califor- 
nian  woman  with  her  hair  of  gold  and  her  un- 
mistakable intellect,  her  marble  face  crossed 
now  and  again  by  the  animation  of  the  clever 
American  woman  ?  What  an  anomaly  to  find 
on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  !  All  I  had  heard 
of  The  Doomswoman,  The  Golden  Senorita, 
gave  me  no  idea  of  this.  What  a  pity  that  our 
houses  are  at  war  !  She  is  not  maternal,  at 
all  events  ;  I  never  saw  a  baby  held  so  awk- 
wardly. What  a  poise  of  head  !  She  looks 
better  fitted  for  tragedy  than  for  this  little 


The  Doomswoman.  25 

comedy  of  life  in  the  Californias.  A  sovereign- 
ty would  suit  her, — were  it  not  for  her  eyes. 
They  are  not  quite  so  calm  and  just  and  inex- 
orable as  the  rest  of  her  face.  She  would  not 
even  make  a  good  household  tyrant,  like  Dona 
Jacoba  Duncan.  Unquestionably  she  is  relig- 
ious, and  swaddled  in  all  the  traditions  of  her 
race  ;  but  her  eyes, — they  are  at  odds  with  all 
the  rest  of  her.  They  are  not  lovely  eyes  ; 
they  lack  softness  and  languor  and  tractability  ; 
their  expression  changes  too  often,  and  they 
mirror  too  much  intelligence  for  loveliness,  but 
they  never  will  be  old  eyes,  and  they  never 
will  cease  to  look.  And  they  are  the  eyes  best 
worth  looking  into  that  I  have  ever  seen.  No, 
a  sovereignty  would  not  suit  her  at  all  ;  a  salon 
might.  But,  like  a  few  of  us,  she  is  some 
years  ahead  of  her  sphere.  Glory  be  to  the 
Californias — of  the  future,  when  we  are  dirt, 
and  our  children  have  found  the  gold  !  " 

The  baby  was  nearly  baptized  by  the  time 
he  had  finished  his  soliloquy.  She  had  kicked 
alarmingly  when  the  salt  was  laid  on  her 
tongue,  and  squalled  under  the  deluge  of  water 
which  gave  her  her  name  and  also  wet  Cho- 
nita's  sleeve.  The  godmother  longed  for  the 
ceremony  to  be  over  ;  but  it  was  more  pro- 
tracted than  usual,  owing  to  the  importance 


26  The  Doomswoman. 

of  the  restless  object  on  the  pillow  in  her 
weary  arms.  When  the  last  word  was  said, 
she  handed  pillow  and  baby  to  tr.e  nurse  with 
a  fervent  sigh  of  relief  which  made  her  appear 
girlish  and  natural. 

After  Estenega  had  lifted  her  to  her  horse  he 
dried  her  sleeve  with  his  handkerchief.  He 
lingered  over  the  task  ;  the  cavalcade  and  popu- 
lace went  on  without  them,  and  when  they 
started  they  were  in  the  rearward  of  the  blithe- 
some crowd. 

"Do  you  know  what  I  thought  as  I  stood 
by  you  in  the  church  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,"  she  said,  indifferently.  "I  hope  you 
prayed  for  the  fortune  of  the  little  one." 

"I  did  not;  nor  did  you.  You  were  too 
afraid  you  would  drop  it.  I  was  thinking  how 
unmotherly,  I  had  almost  said  unwomanly, 
you  looked.  You  were  made  for  the  great 
world, — the  restless  world,  where  people  fly 
faster  from  monotony  than  from  a  tidal  wave." 

She  looked  at  him  with  cold  dignity,  but 
flushed  a  little.  "  I  am  not  unwomanly,  senor, 
although  I  confess  I  do  not  understand  babies 
and  do  detest  to  sew.  But  if  I  ever  marry  I 
shall  be  a  good  wife  and  mother.  No  Spanish 
woman  was  ever  otherwise,  for  every  Spanish 
woman  has  had  a  good  mother  for  example." 


The  Doomswoman.  27 

"You  have  said  exactly  what  you  should 
have  said,  voicing  the  inborn  principles  and 
sentiments  of  the  Spanish  woman.  I  should 
be  interested  to  know  what  your  individual 
sentiments  are.  But  you  misunderstand  me. 
I  said  that  you  were  too  good  for  the  average 
lot  of  woman.  You  are  a  woman,  not  a  doll  ; 
an  intelligence,  not  a  bundle  of  shallow  emo- 
tions and  transient  desires.  You  should  have 
a  larger  destiny." 

She  gave  him  a  swift  sidelong  flash  from 
eyes  that  suddenly  looked  childish  and  eager. 

"It  is  true,"  she  said,  frankly,  "I  have  no 
desire  to  marry  and  have  many  children.  My 
father  has  never  said  to  me,  'Thou  must 
marry ;  '  and  I  have  sometimes  thought  I 
would  say  'No'  when  that  time  came.  For 
the  present  I  am  contented  with  my  books  and 
to  ride  about  the  country  on  a  wild  horse  ;  but 
perhaps — I  do  not  know — I  may  not  always 
be  contented  with  that.  Sometimes  when 
reading  Shakespeare  I  have  imagined  myself 
each  of  those  women  in  turn.  But  generally, 
of  course,  I  have  thought  little  of  being  any 
one  but  myself.  What  else  could  I  be  here  ?  " 

"Nothing;  excepting  a  Joan  of  Arc  when 
the  Americans  sweep  down  upon  us.  But 
that  would  be  only  for  a  day  ;  we  should  be  such 


28  The  Doomswoman. 

easy  prey.  If  I  could  put  you  to  sleep  and 
awaken  you  fifty  years  hence,  when  California 
was  a  modern  civilization  !  God  speed  the 
Americans:  Therein  lies  our  only  chance." 

"What!"  she  cried.  "You — you  would 
have  the  Americans  ?  You — a  California!!  ! 
But  you  are  an  Estenega ;  that  explains  every- 
thing." 

"  I  am  a  California!!,"  he  said,  ignoring  the 
scorn  of  the  last  words,  "but  I  hope  I  have 
acquired  some  common-sense  in  roving  about 
the  world.  The  women  of  California  are  ad- 
mirable in  every  way, — chaste,  strong  of 
character,  industrious,  devoted  wives  and 
mothers,  born  with  sufficient  capacity  for 
small  pleasures.  But  what  are  our  men  ? 
Idle,  thriftless,  unambitious,  too  lazy  to  walk 
across  the  street,  but  with  a  horse  for  every 
step,  sleeping  all  day  in  a  hammock,  gambling 
and  drinking  all  night.  They  are  the  natural 
followers  of  a  race  of  men  who  came  here  to 
force  fortune  out  of  an  unbroken  country  with 
little  to  help  them  but  brains  and  will.  The 
great  effort  produced  'great  results  ;  therefore 
there  is  nothing  for  their  sons  to  do,  and  they 
luxuriously  do  nothing.  What  will  the  next 
generation  be  ?  Our  women  will  marry  Ameri- 
cans,— respect  for  men  who  are  men  will 


The  Doomswoman.  29 

overcome  prejudice, — the  crossed  blood  will 
fight  for  a  generation  or  two,  then  a  race  will 
be  born  worthy  of  California.  Why  are  our 
few  great  men  so  very  great  to  us  ?  What 
have  men  of  exceptional  talent  to  fight  down 
in  the  Californias  except  the  barriers  to  its  de- 
velopment? In  England  or  the  United  States 
they  still  would  be  great  men, — Alvarado  and 
Castro,  at  least, — but  they  would  have  to  work 
harder." 

Chonita,  in  spite  of  her  disapproval  and  her 
blood,  looked  at  him  with  interest.  His  ideas 
and  language  were  strikingly  unlike  the  senti- 
mental rhetoric  of  the  caballeros. 

"It  is  as  you  say,"  she  admitted  ;  "but  the 
Californian's  highest  duty  is  loyalty  to  his  coun- 
try. Ours  is  a  double  duty,  isolated  as  we  are 
on  this  far  strip  of  land,  away  from  all  other 
civilization.  We  should  be  more  contempt- 
ible than  Indians  if  we  were  not  true  to  our 
flag." 

"No  wonder  that  you  and  that  famous  pa- 
triot of  ours,  Dona  Eustaquia  Ortega,  are  bonded 
friends.  I  doubt  if  you  could  hate  as  well  as 
she.  You  have  no  such  violence  in  your  nat- 
ure ;  you  could  neither  love  nor  hate  very 
hard.  You  would  love  (if  you  loved  at  all) 
with  majesty  and  serenity,  and  hate  with  chill 


30  The  Doomswoman. 

severity."  While  he  spoke  he  watched  her 
intently. 

She  met  his  gaze  unflinchingly.  "  True, 
senor ;  I  am  no  'bundle  of  shallow  emotions/ 
nor  have  I  a  lion  in  me,  like  Eustaquia.  I  am 
a  creature  of  deliberation,  not  of  impulse  :  I 
love  and  hate  as  duty  dictates. " 

"You  are  by  nature  the  most  impulsive  wo- 
man I  ever  saw, "he  said,  much  amused,  "and 
Eustaquia's  lion  is  a  kitten  to  the  one  that  sleeps 
in  you.  You  have  cold  deliberation  enough, 
but  it  is  manufactured,  and  the  result  of  pretty 
hard  work  at  that.  Like  all  edifices  reared  with- 
out a  foundation,  it  will  fall  with  a  crash  some 
day,  and  the  fragments  will  be  of  very  little  use 
to  you."  And  there  the  conversation  ended: 
they  had  reached  the  plaza,  and  a  babel  of 
voices  surrounded  them.  Governor  Alvarado 
stood  on  the  upper  corridor  of  his  house,  throw- 
ing handfuls  of  small  gold  coins  among  the 
people,  who  were  shrieking  with  delight.  The 
girl  guests  mingled  with  them,  seeing  that  no 
palm  went  home  empty.  Beside  the  governor 
sat  Dona  Martina,  radiant  with  pride,  and  be- 
hind her  stood  the  nurse,  holding  the  infant  on  its 
pillow. 

"We  had  better  go  to  the  house  as  soon  as 
possible,"  said  Estenega.  "It  is  nearly  time 


The  Doomswoman.  31 

for  the  bull-bear  fight,  and  we  must  have  good 
seats." 

They  forced  their  way  through  the  crowd, 
dismounted  at  the  door,  and  went  up  to  the 
corridor.  The  Castros  and  I  were  already  there, 
with  a  number  of  other  invited  guests.  The 
women  sat  in  chairs,  close  to  the  corridor  rail- 
ing ;  several  rows  of  men  stood  behind  them. 

The  plaza  was  a  jagged  circle  surrounded  by 
dwelling-houses,  some  one  story  in  height, 
others  with  overhanging  balconies  ;  from  it  radi- 
ated five  streets.  All  corridors  were  crowded 
with  the  elegantly-dressed  men  and  women  of 
the  aristocracy  ;  large  black  fans  were  waving  ; 
every  eye  was  flashing  expectantly  ;  the  peo- 
ple stood  on  platforms  which  had  been  erected 
in  four  of  the  streets. 

Amidst  the  shouts  of  the  spectators,  two 
vaqueros,  dressed  in  black  velvet  short-clothes, 
dazzling  linen,  and  stiff  black  sombreros,  tink- 
ling bells  attached  to  their  trappings,  jingling 
spurs  on  their  heels,  galloped  into  the  plaza, 
driving  a  large  aggressive  bull.  They  chased 
him  about  in  a  circle,  swinging  their  reatas, 
dodging  his  onslaughts,  then  rode  out,  and  four 
others  entered,  dragging  an  unwilling  bear  by  a 
reata  tied  to  each  of  its  legs.  By  means  of  a  long 
chain  and  much  dexterity  they  fastened  the  two 


01-    THE 


32  The  Doomswoman. 

beasts  together,  freed  the  legs  of  the  bear,  then 
retired  to  the  entrance  to  await  events.  But  the 
bull  and  the  bear  would  not  fight  The  latter 
arose  on  his  haunches  and  regarded  his  enemy 
warily  ;  the  bull  appeared  to  disdain  the  bear 
as  too  small  game  ;  he  but  lowered  his  horns 
and  pawed  the  ground.  The  spectators  grew 
impatient.  The  brave  caballeros  and  dainty 
donas  wanted  blood.  They  tapped  their  feet 
and  murmured  ominously.  As  for  the  popu- 
lace, it  howled  for  slaughter.  Governor  Al- 
varado  made  a  sign  to  one  of  the  vaqueros  ;  the 
man  rushed  abruptly  upon  the  bull  and  hit  him 
a  sharp  blow  across  the  nose  with  the  cruel 
quirto.  The  bull's  dignity  vanished.  With  the 
quadrupedian  capacity  for  measuring  distance, 
he  inferred  that  the  blow  had  been  inflicted  by 
the  bear,  who  sat  some  twenty  feet  away,  mild- 
ly licking  his  paws.  He  made  a  savage  onset. 
The  bear,  with  the  dexterity  of  a  vaquero, 
leaped  aside  and  sprang  upon  the  assailant's 
neck,  his  teeth  meeting  argumentatively  in  the 
rope-like  tendons.  The  bull  roared  with  pain 
and  rage  and  attempted  to  shake  him  off,  but 
he  hung  on  ;  both  lost  their  footing  and  rolled 
over  and  over  amidst  clouds  of  dust,  a  mighty 
noise,  and  enough  blood  to  satisfy  the  early 
thirst  of  the  beholders.  Then  the  bull  wrenched 


The  Doomswoman.  33 

himself  free  ;  before  the  mountain  visitor  could 
scramble  to  his  feet,  he  fixed  him  with  his  horns 
and  tossed  him  on  high.  As  the  bear  came 
down  on  his  back  with  a  thud  and  a  snap  which 
would  have  satisfied  a  bull  less  anxious  to  show 
what  a  bull  could  do,  the  victor  rushed  upon 
the  corpse,  kicked  and  stamped  and  bit  until 
the  blood  spouted  into  his  eyes,  and  pulp  and 
dust  were  indistinguishable.  Then  how  the 
delighted  spectators  clapped  their  hands  and 
cried  "Brava  !  "  to  the  bull,  who  pranced  about 
the  plaza,  dragging  the  carcass  of  the  bear 
after  him,  his  head  high,  his  big  eyes  red  and 
rolling!  The  women  tore  off  their  rebosos  and 
waved  them  like  banners,  smashed  their  fans, 
and  stamped  their  little  feet ;  the  men  whirled 
their  sombreros  with  supple  wrists.  But  the 
bull  was  not  satisfied ;  he  pawed  the  ground 
with  demanding  hoofs  ;  and  the  vaqueros  gal- 
loped into  the  ring  with  another  bear.  Nor  had 
they  time  to  detach  their  reatas  before  the  bull 
was  upon  the  second  antagonist ;  and  they 
were  obliged  to  retire  in  haste. 

Estenega,  who  stood  between  Chonita  and 
myself,  watched  The  Doomswoman  atten- 
tively. Her  lips  were  compressed  fiercely  ; 
for  a  moment  they  bore  a  strange  resemblance 
to  his  own  as  I  had  seen  them  at  times.  Her 
3 


34  ^e  Doomswoman. 

nostrils  were  expanded,  her  lids  half  covered 
her  eyes.  "She  has  cruelty  in  her,"  he  mur- 
mured to  me  as  the  first  battle  finished  ;  "  and 
it  was  her  imperious  wish  that  the  bull  should 
win,  because  he  is  the  more  lordly  animal. 
She  has  no  sympathy  for  the  poor  bundle 
of  hair  and  quivering  flesh  that  bounded  on 
the  mountain  yesterday.  Has  she  brutality 
in  her? — just  enough 

"Brava!  Brava  !  "  The  women  were  on 
their  feet ;  even  Chonita  for  the  moment  forgot 
herself,  and  beat  the  railing  with  her  small 
fist.  Another  bear  had  been  impaled  and 
tossed  and  trampled.  The  bull,  panting  from 
his  exertions,  dashed  about  the  plaza,  still 
dragging  his  first  victim  after  him.  Suddenly 
he  stopped ;  the  blood  gushed  from  his  nos- 
trils ;  he  shivered  like  a  skeleton  hanging  in 
the  wind,  then  fell  in  an  ignominious  heap — 
dead. 

"A  warning,  Diego,"  I  said,  rising  and  shak- 
ing my  fan  at  him.  "Be  not  too  ambitious, 
else  wilt  thou  die  of  thy  victories.  And  do  not 
love  the  polar  star,"  I  murmured  in  his  ear, 
"  lest  thou  set  fire  to  it  and  fall  to  ashes  thy- 
self." 


The  Doomswoman. 


III. 


IN  the  long  dining-room,  opening  upon  the 
large  high-walled  garden  at  the  back  of  the 
Governor's  house,  a  feast  was  spread  for  fifty 
people.  Dona  Martina  sat  for  a  little  time  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  her  yellow  gown  almost 
hidden  by  the  masses  of  hair  which  her  small 
head  could  not  support.  Castro  was  on  one 
side  of  her,  Estenega  on  the  other,  Chonita  by 
her  arch-enemy.  A  large  bunch  of  artificial 
flowers  was  at  each  plate,  and  the  table  was 
loaded  with  yellowed  chickens  sitting  proudly 
in  scarlet  gravy,  tongues  covered  with  walnut 
sauce,  grilled  meats,  tamales,  mounds  of  tor- 
tillas, and  dulces. 

Alvarado,  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  sat 
between  Dona  Modeste  Castro  and  myself;  and 
between  the  extremes  of  the  board  were  faces 
glowing,  beautiful,  ugly,  but  without  exception 
fresh  and  young.  From  all,  the  mantilla  and 
serape  had  been  removed,  jewels  sparkled  in 
the  lace  shirts  of  the  men,  white  throats  were 
encircled  by  the  invariable  necklace  of  Baja 


36  The  Doomswoman. 

Californian  pearls.  Chonita  alone  wore  a  string 
of  black  pearls.  I  never  saw  her  without  it. 

Dona  Martina  took  little  part  in  the  talk  and 
laughter,  and  after  a  time  slipped  away,  mo- 
tioning to  Chonita  to  take  her  place.  The  con- 
versation turned  upon  war  and  politics,  and  in 
its  course  Estenega,  looking  from  Chonita  to 
Castro  with  a  smile  of  good-natured  irony, 
said, — 

"Dona  Chonita  is  of  your  opinion,  coronel, 
that  California  was  the  direct  gift  of  heaven  to 
the  Spaniards,  and  that  the  Americans  cannot 
have  us." 

Castro  raised  his  glass  to  the  comadre. 
"Dona  Chonita  has  the  loyal  bosom  of  all  Cali- 
fornian women.  Our  men  love  better  the  olive 
of  peace  than  the  flavor  of  discord;  but  did 
the  bandoleros  dare  to  approach  our  peaceful 
shores  with  dastardly  intent  to  rob,  then, 
thanks  be  to  God,  I  know  that  every  man  among- 
them  would  fight  for  this  virgin  land.  Thou, 
too,  Diego,  thou  wouldst  unsheathe  thy  sword, 
in  spite  of  thy  pretended  admiration  of  the 
Americans." 

Estenega  raised  his  shoulders.  "Possibly. 
But  in  American  occupation  lies  the  hope  of 
California.  What  have  we  done  with  it  in  our 
seventy  years  of  possession  ?  Built  a  few 


The  Doomswoman.  37 

missions,  which  are  rotting,  terrorized  or  cajoled 
a  few  thousand  worthless  Indians  into  civilized 
imbecility,  and  raised  a  respectable  number  of 
horses  and  cattle.  Our  hide  and  tallow  trade 
is  only  good ;  the  Russians  have  monopolized 
the  fur  trade  ;  we  continue  to  raise  cattle  and 
horses  because  it  would  be  an  exertion  to 
suppress  them  ;  and  meanwhile  we  dawdle 
away  our  lives  very  pleasurably,  whilst  a 
magnificent  territory,  filled  with  gold  and 
richer  still  in  soil,  lies  idle  beneath  our  feet. 
Nature  never  works  without  a  plan.  She  com- 
pounded a  wonderful  country,  and  she  created 
a  wonderful  people  to  develop  it.  She  has 
allowed  us  to  drone  on  it  for  a  little  time,  but 
it  was  not  made  for  us  ;  and  I  am  sufficiently 
interested  in  California  to  wish  to  see  her  rise 
from  her  sleep  and  feel  and  live  in  every  part 
of  her. "  He  turned  suddenly  to  Chonita.  "  If 
I  were  a  sculptor,"  he  said,  "  I  should  use  you 
as  a  model  for  a  statue  of  California.  I  have 
the  somewhat  whimsical  idea  that  you  are  the 
human  embodiment  of  her. " 

Before  she  could  muster  her  startled  and 
angry  faculties  for  reply,  before  Estenega  had 
finished  speaking,  in  fact,  Castro  brought  his 
open  palm  down  on  the  table,  his  eyes  blaz- 
ing. 


38  The  Doomswoman. 

"Oh,  execrable  profanation!"  he  cried. 
"Oh,  unheard-of  perfidy!  Is  it  possible  that 
a  man  calling  himself  a  California!!  could  give 
utterance  to  such  sentiments  ?  Oh,  abomina- 
tion !  You  would  invite,  welcome,  uphold,  the 
American  adventurer  ?  You  would  tear  apart 
the  bosom  of  your  country  under  pretense  of 
doctoring  its  evils  ?  You  would  cast  this  fair 
gift  of  Almighty  God  at  the  feet  of  American 
swine?  Oh,  Diego!  Diego!  This  comes  of 
the  heretic  books  thou  hast  read.  It  is  better 
to  have  heart  than  brain." 

"  True  :  the  palpitations  do  not  last  as  long. 
We  have  had  proof  which  I  need  not  recapitu- 
late that  to  preserve  California  to  itself  it  must 
be  tied  fast  to  Mexico,  otherwise  would  it  die 
of  anarchy  or  fall  a  prey  to  the  first  invader. 
So  far  so  good.  But  what  has  Mexico  done  for 
California  ?  Nothing ;  and  she  will  do  less. 
She  is  a  mother  who  has  forgotten  the  child  she 
put  out  to  nurse.  England  and  France  and 
Russia  would  do  as  little.  But  the  United 
States,  young  and  ambitious,  will  give  her 
greedy  attention,  and  out  of  their  greed  will 
California's  good  be  wrought.  And  although 
they  sweep  us  from  the  earth,  they  will  plant 
fruit  where  they  found  weeds." 

Don  Jose  pushed  back  his  chair  violently  and 


The  Doomswoman.  39 

left  the  table.  Estenega  turned  to  Chonita  and 
found  her  pallid,  her  nostrils  tense,  her  eyes 
flashing. 

' 'Traitor!"  she  articulated.  "I  hate  you! 
And  it  was  you— you — who  kept  my  loyal 
brother  from  serving  his  country  in  the  Depart- 
mental Junta.  He  is  as  full  of  fire  and  patriot- 
ism as  Castro  ;  and  yet  you,  whose  blood  is 
ice,  could  be  a  member  of  the  Electoral  College 
and  defeat  the  election  of  a  man  who  is  as 
much  an  honor  to  his  country  as  you  are  a 
shame. " 

He  smiled  a  little  cruelly,  but  without  anger 
or  shame  in  his  face.  "Senorita,"  he  said,  "I 
defeated  your  brother  because  I  did  not  believe 
him  to  be  of  any  use  to  his  country.  He 
would  only  have  been  in  the  way  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Junta,  and  an  older  man  wanted  the 
place.  Your  brother  has  Don  Jose's  enthusiasm 
without  his  magnetism  and  remarkable  execu- 
tive power.  He  is  too  young  to  have  had 
experience,  and  has  done  neither  reading  nor 
thinking.  Therefore  I  did  my  best  to  defeat 
him.  Pardon  my  rudeness,  sefiorita  ;  ascribe 
it  to  revenge  for  calling  me  a  traitor." 

"You — you "  she  stammered,  then  bent 

her  head  over  her  plate,  her  Spanish  dignity 
aghast  at  the  threatening  tears.  Her  hand 


40  The  Doomswoman. 

hung  clinched  at  her  side.  Diego  took  it  in 
spite  of  resistance,  and,  opening  the  rigid  fin- 
gers, bent  his  head  beneath  the  board  and 
kissed  them. 

"I  believe  you  are  somewhat  of  a  woman, 
after  all, ''  he  said. 


The  Doomswoman.  41 


IV. 


THE  party  deserted  the  table  for  the  garden, 
there  to  idle  until  evening  should  give  them 
the  dance.  All  of  the  men  and  most  of  the 
women  smoked  cigaritos,  the  latter  using  the 
gold  or  silver  holder,  supporting  it  between  the 
thumb  and  finger.  The  high  walls  of  the 
garden  were  covered  with  the  delicate  fragrant 
pink  Castilian  roses,  and  the  girls  plucked 
them  and  laid  them  in  their  hair. 

"Does  it  look  well,  Don  Diego?"  asked 
one  girl,  holding  her  head  coquettishly  on  one 
side. 

"It  looked  better  on  its  vine,"  he  said, 
absently.  He  was  looking  for  Chonita,  who 
had  disappeared.  (" Roses  are  like  women: 
they  lose  their  subtler  fragrance  when  plucked  ; 
but,  like  women,  their  heads  always  droop  in- 
vitingly/^ 

"I  do  not  understand  thee,  Don  Diego," 
said  the  girl,  fixing  her  wide  innocent  eyes  on 
the  young  man's  inscrutable  face.  ' '  What  dost 
thou  mean  ?  " 


42  The  Doomswoman. 

"That  them  art  sweeter  than  Castilian 
roses,"  he  said  and  passed  on.  "And  how  is 
thy  little  one  ? "  he  asked  a  young  matron 
whose  lithe  beauty  had  won  his  admiration  a 
year  ago,  but  to  whom  maternity  had  been  too 
generous.  She  raised  her  soft  brown  eyes, 
out  of  which  the  coquettish  sparkle  had  gone. 

"Beautiful!  Beautiful!"  she  cried.  "And 
so  smart,  Don  Diego.  He  beats  the  air  with 
his  little  fists,  and — Holy  Mary,  I  swear  it ! — 
he  winks  one  eye  when  I  tickle  him." 

Estenega  sauntered  down  the  garden  en- 
deavoring to  imagine  Chonita  fat  and  classified. 
He  could  not.  He  paused  beside  a  woman 
who  did  not  raise  her  eyes  at  once,  but  coquet- 
tishly  pretended  to  be  absorbed  in  the  conver- 
sation of  those  about  her.  She  too  had  been 
married  a  year  and  more,  but  her  figure  had 
not  lost  its  elegance,  and  she  was  very  hand- 
some. Her  coquetry  was  partly  fear.  Este- 
nega's  power  was  felt  alike  by  innocent  girls 
and  chaste  matrons.  There  were  few  scan- 
dals in  those  days  ;  the  women  of  the  aristoc- 
racy were  virtuous  by  instinct  and  rigid  social 
laws  ;  but,  how  it  would  be  hard  to  tell, 
Estenega  had  acquired  the  reputation  of  being 
a  dangerous  man.  Perhaps  it  had  followed 
him  back  from  the  city  of  Mexico,  where  at 


The  Doomswoman.  43 

one  time,  he  had  spent  three  years  as  diputa- 
do,  and  whence  returned  with  a  brilliant  and 
startling"  record  of  gallantry.  A  woman  had 
followed  on  the  next  ship,  and,  unless  I  am 
much  mistaken,  Diego  passed  many  uneasy 
hours  before  he  persuaded  her  to  return  to 
Mexico.  Then  old  Don  Jose  Briones'  beautiful 
young  wife  was  found  dead  in  her  bed  one 
morning,  and  the  old  women  who  dressed  the 
body  swore  that  there  were  marks  of  hard 
skinny  ringers  on  her  throat.  Estenega  had 
made  no  secret  of  his  admiration  of  her.  At 
different  times  girls  of  the  people  had  left 
Monterey  suddenly,  and  vague  rumors  had 
floated  down  from  the  North  that  they  had 
been  seen  in  the  redwood  forests  where  Este- 
nega's  ranches  lay.  I  asked  him,  point-blank, 
one  day,  if  these  stories-  were  true,  prepared  to 
scold  him  as  he  deserved ;  and  he  remarked 
coolly  that  stories  of  that  sort  were  always 
exaggerated,  as  well  as  a  man's  success  with 
women.  But  one  had  only  to  look  at  that 
face,  with  its  expression  of  bitter-humorous 
knowledge,  its  combination  of  strength  and 
weakness,  to  feel  sure  that  there. were  chapters 
in  his  life  that  no  woman  outside  of  them 
would  ever  read.  I  always  felt,  when  with 
Diego  Estenega,  that  I  was  in  the  presence  of 


44  The  Doomswoman. 

a  man  who  had  little  left  to  learn  of  life's 
phases  and  sensations. 

' '  The  sun  will  freckle  thy  white  neck, "  he  said 
to  the  matron  who  would  not  raise  her  eyes. 
"  Shall  I  bring  thy  mantilla,  Dona  Carmen  ?  " 

She  looked  up  with  a  swift  blush,  then  low- 
ered her  soft  black  eyes  suddenly  before  the 
penetrating  gaze  of  the  man  who  was  so  dif- 
ferent from  the  caballeros. 

"It  is  not  well  to  be  too  vain,  sefior.  We 
must  think  less  of  those  things  and  more  of — 
of  our  Church. " 

' '  True  ;  the  Church  may  be  a  surer  road  to 
heaven  than  a  good  complexion,  if  less  of  a 
talisman  on  earth.  Still  I  doubt  if  a  freckled 
Virgin  would  have  commanded  the  admiration 
of  the  centuries,  or  even  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 

"Don  Diego  !  Don-  Diego  !  "  cried  a  dozen 
horrified  voices. 

"  Diego  Estenega,  if  it  were  any  man  but 
thou, "  I  exclaimed,  ' '  I  would  have  thee  excom- 
municated. Thou  blasphemer !  How  couldst 
thou  ? " 

Diego  raised  my  threatening  hand  to  his 
lips.  "My  dear  Eustaquia,  it  was  merely  a 
way  of  saying  that  woman  should  be  without 
blemish.  And  is  not  the  Virgin  the  model  for 
all  women  ? " 


Afl 

tTNIVERSITY 


The  Doomswoman.  45 

"Oh,"  I  exclaimed,  impatiently,  "  thou  canst 
plant  an  idea  in  people's  minds,  then  pluck  it 
out  before  their  very  eyes  and  make  them  believe 
it  never  was  there.  That  is  thy  power, — but 
not  over  me.  I  know  thee."  We  were  stand- 
ing apart,  and  I  had  dropped  my  voice.  "  But 
come  and  talk  to  me  awhile.  I  cannot  stand 
those  babies,"  and  I  indicated  with  a  sweep  of 
my  fan  the  graceful,  richly-dressed  cabal  leros 
whose  soft  drooping  eyes  and  sensuous  mouths 
were  more  promising  of  compliments  than  con- 
versation. "Neither  Alvarado  nor  Castro  is 
here.  Thou  too  wouldst  have  gone  in  a  mo- 
ment had  I  not  captured  thee." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  should  have  captured 
you.  If  we  were  not  too  old  friends  for  flirting 
I  should  say  that  your  handsome-ugly  face  is 
the  most  attractive  in  the  garden.  It  is  a  pretty 
picture,  though,"  he  went  on,  meditatively, — 
"  those  women  in  their  gay  soft  gowns,  coquet- 
ting demurely  with  the  caballeros.  Their  eyes 
and  mouths  are  like  flowers  ;  and  their  skins 
are  so  white,  and  their  hair  so  black.  The 
high  wall,  covered  with  green  and  Castilian 
roses,  was  purposely  designed  by  Nature  for 
them.  Sometimes  I  have  a  passing  regret  that 
it  is  all  doomed,  and  a  half-century  hence  will 
have  passed  out  of  memory." 


46  The  Doomswoman. 

1 '  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  asked,  sharply. 

"Oh,  we  will  not  discuss  the  question  of  the 
future.  I  sent  Castro  away  from  the  table  in  a 
towering-  rage,  and  it  is  too  hot  to  excite  you. 
Even  the  impassive  Doomswoman  became  so 
angry  that  she  could  not  eat  her  dinner/' 

"  It  is  your  old  wish  for  American  occupa- 
tion— the  bandoleros  !  No  ;  I  will  not  discuss  it 
with  you  :  I  have  gone  to  bed  with  my  head 
bursting  when  we  have  talked  of  it  before. 
You  might  have  spared  poor  Jose.  But  let  us 
talk  of  something  else  —  Chonita.  What  do 
you  think  of  her  ?  " 

"A  thousand  things  more  than  one  usually 
thinks  of  a  woman  after  the  first  interview.'' 

"But  do  you  think  her  beautiful  ?  " 

' '  She  is  better  than  beautiful.  She  is  orig- 
inal." 

' '  I  often  wonder  if  she  would  be  La  Favorita 
of  the  South  if  it  were  not  for  her  father's  great 
wealth  and  position.  The  men  who  profess  to 
be  her  slaves  must  have  absorbed  the  knowl- 
edge that  she  has  the  brains  they  have  not, 
although  she  conceals  her  superiority  from  them 
admirably  :  her  pride  and  love  of  power  demand 
that  she  shall  be  La  Favorita,  although  her  ca- 
balleros  must  weary  her.  If  she  made  them  feel 
their  insignificance  for  a  moment  they  would 


The  Doomswoman.  47 

fly  to  the  standard  of  her  rival,  Valencia  Men- 
endez,  and  her  regalities  would  be  gone  forever. 
A  few  men  have  gone  honestly  wild  over  her, 
but  I  doubt  if  any  one  has  ever  really  loved  her. 
Such  women  receive  a  surfeit  of  admiration, 
but  little  love.  If  she  were  an  unintellectual 
woman  she  would  have  an  extraordinary  power 
over  men,  with  her  beauty  and  her  subtle 
charm  ;  but  now  she  is  isolated.  What  a  pity 
that  your  houses  are  at  war  !  " 

He  had  been  looking  away  from  me.  As  I 
finished  speaking  he  turned  his  face  slowly 
toward  me,  first  the  profile,  which  looked  as  if 
cut  rapidly  with  a  sharp  knife  out  of  ivory,  then 
the  full  face,  with  its  eyes  set  so  deeply  under 
the  scraggy  brows,  its  mouth  grimly  humor- 
ous. He  looked  somewhat  sardonic  and  decid- 
edly selfish.  Well  I  knew  what  that  expression 
meant.  He  had  the  kindest  heart  I  had  ever 
known,  but  it  never  interfered  with  a  most  self- 
indulgent  nature.  Many  times  I  had  begged 
him  to  be  considerate  of  some  girl  who  I  knew 
charmed  him  for  the  moment  only  ;  but  one 
secret  of  his  success  with  women  was  his  un- 
feigned if  brief  enthusiasm. 

"  Let  her  alone  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "You  can- 
not marry  her.  She  would  go  into  a  convent 
before  she  would  sacrifice  the  traditions  of  her 


48  The  Doomswoman. 

house.  And  if  you  were  not  at  war,  and  she 
married  you,  you  would  only  make  her  miser- 
ably happy." 

He  merely  smiled  and  continued  to  look  me 
straight  in  the  eyes. 


The  Doomswoman. 


49 


V. 


I  WENT  upstairs  and  found  Chonita  reading1 
Landors  "  Imaginary  Conversations. "  (When 
Chonita  was  eighteen, — she  was  now  twenty- 
four, — Don  Alfredo  Robinson,  one  of  the 
American  residents,  had  at  her  father's  request 
sent  to  Boston  for  a  library  of  several  hundred 
books,  a  birthday  gift  for  the  ambitious  daugh- 
ter of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas.  The  selection 
was  an  admirable  one,  and  a  ran cho  would  not 
have  pleased  her  as  well.  She  read  English 
and  French  with  ease,  although  she  spoke  both 
languages  brokenly.)  As  I  entered  she  laid 
down  the  book  and  clasped  her  hands  behind 
her  head.  She  looked  tranquil,  but  less  amiable 
than  was  her  wont. 

' '  Thou  hast  been  far  away  from  the  cabal- 
leros  and  the  donas  of  Monterey,"  I  said. 
"Not  even  among  Spanish  ghosts." 
"  I  think  thou  carest  at  heart  for  nothing  but 
thy  books. " 

"  And  a  few  people,  and  my  religion." 
"  But  they  come  second,  although  thou  wilt 
not  acknowledge  it  even  to  thyself.     Suppose 
4 


50  The  Doomswoman. 

thou  hadst  to  sacrifice  thy  religion  or  thy  books, 
never  to  read  another  ?  Which  wouldst  thou 
choose  ?  " 

"God  of  my  soul!  what  a  question!  No 
Spanish  woman  was  ever  a  truer  Catholic  ;  but 
to  read  is  my  happiness,  the  only  happiness  I 
want  on  earth." 

"Art  thou  sure  that  to  train  the  intellect 
means  happiness  ? " 

"Sure.  Does  it  not  give  us  the  power  to 
abstract  ourselves  from  life  when  we  are  tired 
of  it  ? " 

"True,  but  there  is  another  result  you  have 
not  thought  of.  ( The  more  the  intellect  is 
developed,  the  more  acute  and  aggressive  is 
the  nervous  system  ;  the  more  tenacious  is  the 
memory,  the  more  has  one  to  live  with,  and 
the  higher  the  ideals. )  When  the  time  comes 
for  you  to  live  you  will  suffer  with  double  the 
intensity  and  depth  of  the  woman  whose  nerves 
are  dull  or  stunted." 

f"To  suffer  you  must  love,  and  I  never  shall 
love.  Who  is  there  to  love  ?  Books  always 
suffice  me,  and  I  suppose  there  are  enough  in 
the  world  to  make  the  time  pass  as  long  as  I 
live." 

I  did  not  continue  the  argument,  knowing 
the  placid  superiority  of  inexperience. 


.    4 


The  Dooms-woman.  51 


"But  thou  hast  not  yet  told  me  which  thou 
wouldst  give  up. " 

"The  books,  of  course.  I  hope  I  know  my 
duty.  I  would  sacrifice  all  things  to  my  relig- 
ion. But  the  priests  do  not  interfere  now  as 
they  did  in  the  last  generation." 

I  was  very  religious  in  those  days,  and  my 
heart  beat  with  approval.  ' '  I  have  always  said 
that  the  Church  may  let  women  read  what  they 
choose.  The  good  principles  they  are  born 
with  they  will  adhere  to." 

"  We  are  by  nature  conservatives,  that  is  all. 
And  we  have  need  of  religion.  We  must 
have  something  to  lean  on,  and  men  are  poor 
props,  as  far  as  I  have  observed.  Sometimes 
after  having  read  a  long  while  in  an  absorbing 
book,  particularly  one  that  seemed  to  put  some- 
thing with  a  living  hand  into  my  brain  and 
make  it  feel  larger,  I  find  that  I  am  miles  away 
from  the  Church  ;  I  have  forgotten  its  existence. 
I  always  run  back." 

"Dios/  I  should  think  so.  Yes,  it  is  well 
we  do  need  our  religion.  Men  do  not ;  for 
that  reason  they  drop  it  the  moment  the  wings 
on  their  minds  grow  fast — as  they  would,  when 
the  warm  sun  came  out,  drop  the  thick  blanket 
of  the  Indian,  borrowed  and  gratefully  worn 
in  dark  uncertain  weather.  I  do  not  dare  ask 


52  The  Doomswoman. 

Diego  Estenega  what  he  believes,  lest  he  tell 
me  he  believes  nothing  and  I  should  have  to 
hear  it.  Ho\v  dost  thou  like  my  friend, 
Chonita  ? " 

"Art  thou  asking  me  how  I  like  the  enemy 
of  my  house  ?  I  hate  him. " 

"  If  he  goes  to  Santa  Barbara  with  Alvarado 
this  summer  wilt  thou  ask  him  to  be  thy 
guest  ? " 

"Of  course.  The  enmity  has  always  been 
veiled  with  much  courtesy  ;  and  I  would  have 
him  see  that  we  know  how  to  entertain." 

I  watched  her  covertly  ;  I  could  detect  no 
sign  of  interest.  Presently  she  took  up  the 
volume  of  Landor  and  read  aloud  to  me,  the 
stately  English  sounding  oddly  with  her  Spanish 
accent. 


The  Doomswoman.  53 


VI. 


AT  ten  o'clock  the  large  sala  of  the  Governor's 
house  was  thronged  with  guests,  and  the  music 
of  the  flute,  harp,  and  guitar  floated  through 
the  open  windows  :  the  musicians  sat  on  the  cor- 
ridor. How  harmonious  was  the  Monterey  ball- 
room of  that  day  ! — the  women  in  their  white 
gowns  of  every  rich  material,  the  men  in  white 
trousers,  black  silk  jackets,  and  low  morocco 
shoes  ;  no  color  except  in  the  jewels  and  the 
rich  Southern  faces.  The  bare  ugly  sala,  from 
which  the  uglier  furniture  had  been  removed, 
needed  no  ornaments  with  that  moving  beauty  ; 
and  even  the  coffee-colored,  high-stomached 
old  people  were  picturesque.  I  wander  through 
those  deserted  salas  sometimes,  and,  as  the 
tears  blister  my  eyes,  imagination  and  memory 
people  the  cold  rooms,  and  I  forget  that  the 
dashing  caballeros  and  lovely  donas  who  once 
called  Monterey  their  own  and  made  it  a  living 
picture-book  are  dust  beneath  the  wild  oats 
and  thistles  of  the  deserted  cemetery  on  the 
hill.  The  Americans  hardly  know  that  such 
a  people  once  existed. 


54  The  Doomswoman. 

Chonita  entered  the  sala  at  eleven  o'clock, 
looking  like  a  snow  queen.  Her  gold  hair, 
which  always  glittered  like  metal,  was  arranged 
to  simulate  a  crown  ;  she  wore  a  gown  of 
Spanish  lace,  and  no  jewels  but  the  string  of 
black  pearls.  I  never  had  seen  her  look  so 
cold  and  so  regal. 

Estenega  stepped  out  upon  the  corridor. 
"Play  El  Son/' he  said,  peremptorily.  Then 
as  the  vivacious  music  began  he  walked  over  to 
Chonita  and  clapped  his  hands  in  front  of  her 
as  authoritatively  as  he  had  bidden  the  musi- 
cians. What  he  did  was  of  frequent  occurrence 
in  the  California!!  ball-room,  but  she  looked 
haughtily  rebellious.  He  continued  to  strike 
his  hands  together,  and  looked  down  upon  her 
with  an  amused  smile  which  brought  the  angry 
color  to  her  face.  Her  hesitation  aroused  the 
eagerness  of  the  other  men,  and  they  cried 
loudly- — 

11  El  Son  !  El  Son  !  senorita. " 

She  could  no  longer  refuse,  and,  passing  Es- 
tenega with  head  erect,  she  bent  it  slightly  to 
the  caballeros  and  passed  to  the  middle  of  the 
room,  the  other  guests  retreating  to  the  wall. 
She  stood  for  a  moment,  swaying  her  body 
slightly  ;  then,  raising  her  gown  high  enough 
for  the  lace  to  sweep  the  instep  of  her  small 


The  Doomswoman.  55 

arched  feet,  she  tapped  the  floor  in  exact 
time  to  the  music  for  a  few  moments,  then 
glided  dreamily  along  the  sala,  her  willowy 
body  falling  in  lovely  lines,  unfolding  every 
detail  of  El  Son,  unheeding  the  low  ripple  of 
approval.  Then,  dropping  her  gown,  she  spun 
the  length  of  the  room  like  a  white  cloud  caught 
in  a  cyclone ;  her  garments  whirred,  her  heels 
clicked,  her  motion  grew  faster  and  swifter, 
until  the  spectators  panted  for  breath.  Then, 
unmindful  of  the  lively  melody,  she  drifted 
slowly  down,  swaying  languidly,  her  long 
round  arms  now  lolling  in  the  lace  of  her  gown, 
now  lifted  to  graceful  sweep  and  curve.  The 
caballeros  shouted  their  appreciation,  flinging 
gold  and  silver  at  her  feet ;  never  had  El  Son 
been  given  with  such  variations  before.  Never 
did  I  see  greater  enthusiasm  until  the  night 
which  culminated  the  tragedy  of  Ysabel  Her- 
rera.  Estenega  stood  enraptured,  watching 
every  motion  of  her  body,  every  expression  of 
her  face.  The  blood  blazed  in  her  cheeks, 
her  eyes  were  like  green  stars  and  sparkled 
wickedly.  The  cold  curves  of  her  statuesque 
mouth  were  warm  and  soft,  her  chin  was 
saucily  uplifted,  her  heavy  waving  hair  fell 
over  her  shoulders  to  her  knees,  a  glittering 
veil.  Where  had  The  Doomswoman,  the 


56  The  Dooms-woman. 

proud  daughter  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas, 
gone  ? 

The  girls  were  a  little  frightened  :  this  was 
not  the  Son  to  which  they  were  accustomed. 
The  young  matrons  frowned.  The  old  people 
exclaimed,  "  Caramba  !  "  "Mother  of  God!" 
"  Holy  Mary  !  "  I  was  aghast ;  well  as  I  knew 
her,  this  was  a  piece  of  audacity  for  which  I 
was  unprepared. 

As  the  dance  went  on  and  she  grew  more 
and  more  like  an  untamed  wood-nymph,  even 
the  caballeros  became  vaguely  uneasy,  hotly 
as  they  admired  the  beautiful  wild  thing  en- 
chaining their  gaze.  I  looked  again  at  Este- 
nega  and  knew  that  his  heart  beat  in  passionate 
sympathy. 

"  I  have  found  her,"  he  murmured,  exult- 
antly. "  She  is  California,  magnificent,  auda- 
cious, incomprehensible,  a  creature  of  storms 
and  convulsions  and  impregnable  calm ;  the 
germs  of  all  good  and  all  bad  in  her  ;  a  woman 
sublimated.  Every  husk  of  tradition  has  fallen 
from  her." 

Once,  as  she  passed  Estenega,  her  eyes  met 
his.  They  lit  with  a  glance  of  recognition,  then 
the  lids  drooped  and  she  floated  on.  He  left  the 
room  ;  and  when  he  returned  she  sat  on  a  win- 
dow-seat, surrounded  by  caballeros,  as  calm  and 


The  Doomswoman. 


57 


as  pale  as  when  he  had  commanded  her  to 
dance.  He  did  not  approach  her,  but  joined  me 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  sala,  where  I  stood  with 
Alvarado,  the  Castros,  Don  Thomas  Larkin, 
the  United  States  Consul,  and  a  half-dozen 
others.  We  were  discussing  Chonita's  inter- 
pretation of  El  Son. 

' '  That  was  a  strange  outbreak  for  a  Spanish 
girl,"  said  Senor  Larkin. 

"She  is  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada,"  said 
Castro,  severely.  "She  is  like  no  other 
woman,  and  what  she  does  is  right. " 

The  consul  bowed.  "True,  coronel.  I 
have  seen  no  one  here  like  Dona  Chonita. 
There  is  a  delicious  uniformity  about  the 
Californian  women  :  so  reserved,  shrinking 
yet  dignified,  ever  on  their  guard.  Dona 
Chonita  changed  so  swiftly  from  the  typical 
woman  of  her  race  to  an  houri,  almost  a  bac- 
chante,— only  an  extraordinary  refinement  of 
nature  kept  her  this  side  of  the  line, — that 
an  American  would  be  tempted  to  call  her 
eccentric. " 

Alvarado  lifted  his  hand  and  pointed  through 
the  window  to  the  stars.  "The  golden  coals  in 
the  blue  fire  of  heaven  are  not  higher  above 
censure,"  he  said. 

Dona  Modeste  raised  her  eyebrows.     ' '  Coals 


58  The  Doomsivoman. 

are  safest  when  burned  on  the  domestic  hearth  and 
carefully  watched ;  safer  still  when  they  have  fallen 
to  ashes." 

"  What  is  this  rumor  of  pirates  on  the  coast?  " 
demanded  Alvarado,  abruptly. 

I  put  my  hand  through  Estenega's  arm  and 
drew  him  aside.  The  music  of  the  contradanza 
was  playing,  and  we  stood  against  the  wall. 

"Well,  you  know  Chonita  better  since  that 
dance,"  I  said  to  him.  "  Polar  stars  are  not  un- 
likely to  have  volcanoes.  Better  let  the  deeps 
alone,  my  friend ;  the  lava  might  scorch  you  bad- 
ly. Women  of  complex  natures  are  interesting 
studies,  but  dangerous  to  love.)  They  wear  the 
nerves  to  a  point,  and  the  tired  brain  and  heart 
turn  gratefully  to  the  crystalline,  idle -minded 
woman.  She  is  too  much  like  yourself,  Diego. 
And  you, — how  long  could  you  love  anybody? 
Love  with  you  means  curiosity." 

His  face  looked  like  chalk  for  a  moment,  an  in- 
dication with  him  of  suppressed  and  violent  emo- 
tion. Then  he  turned  his  head  and  regarded  me 
with  a  slight  smile.  "  Not  altogether.  (You  forget 
that  the  most  faithless  men  have  been  the  most 
faithful  when  they  have  found  the  one  woman. 
Curiosity  and  fickleness  are  merely  parts  of  a  rest- 
less seeking, — nothing  more.") 

"  I  was  sure  you  would  acquit   yourself  with 


The  Doomswoman.  59 

credit  !  But  you  have  an  unholy  charm,  and 
you  never  hesitate  to  exert  it." 

He  laughed  outright.  "One  would  think  I 
was  a  rattlesnake.  My  unholy  charm  con- 
sists of  a  reasonable  amount  of  address  born 
of  a  great  weakness  for  women  and  some  per- 
sonal magnetism, — the  latter  the  offspring  of 
the  habit  of  mental  concentration 

"And  an  inexorable  will " 

' '  Perhaps.  As  to  the  exercise  of  it — why 
not?  Vive  la  bagatelle!" 

"It  is  useless  to  argue  with  you.  Are  you 
going  to  let  that  girl  alone  ?  " 

"  She  is  the  only  girl  in  the  Californias  whom 
I  shall  not  let  alone." 

I  could  have  shaken  him.  "To  what  end? 
And  her  brother  ?  I  have  often  wondered  which 
would  rule  you  in  a  crisis,  your  head  or  your 
passions." 

"It  \vould  depend  upon  the  crisis.  I  am 
afraid  you  are  right, — that  altiloquent  Reinaldo 
will  give  trouble." 

"  Is  it  true  that  he  has  been  conspiring  with 
Carillo,  and  that  an  extraordinary  and  secret 
session  of  the  Departmental  Junta  has  been 
called?" 

He  looked  down  upon  me  with  his  grimmest 
smile.  "You  curious  little  woman!  You 


60  The  Doomswoman. 

must  not  put  your  white  fingers  into  the  Depart- 
mental pie.  If  you  had  been  a  man,  with  as 
good  a  brain  as  you  have  for  a  woman,  you 
would  have  been  an  ornament  to  our  politics. 
But  as  it  is — pardon  me — the  better  for  our  bal- 
ancing country  the  less  you  have  to  do  with  it." 

I  could  feel  my  eyes  snap.  "  You  respect 
no  woman's  mind,"  I  said,  savagely;  "nothing 
but  the  woman  in  her.  But  I  will  not  quarrel 
with  you.  Tell  that  baby  over  there  to  come 
and  waltz  with  me.  " 

At  dawn,  as  we  entered  our  room,  I  seized 
Chonita  by  the  shoulders  and  shook  her.  ' '  What 
did  you  mean  by  such  a  performance?  "  I  de- 
manded. "It  was  unprecedented  !  " 

She  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed.  "  I 
could  not  help  it,"  she  said.  "  First  I  felt  an 
irresistible  desire  to  show  Monterey  that  I  dared 
do  anything  I  chose.  And  then  I  have  a  wild 
something  in  me  which  has  often  threatened 
to  break  loose  before  ;  and  to-night  it  did.  It 
was  that  man.  He  made  me." 

"Ay,  Dios/"  I  thought,  "it  has  begun  al- 
ready. " 


The  Doomswoman.  61 


VII. 

THE  festivities  were  to  last  a  week,  every  one 
taking  part  but  Alvarado  and  Dona  Martina. 
The  latter  was  not  strong  enough,  the  governor 
cared  more  for  duty  than  for  pleasure. 

The  next  day  we  had  a  merienda  on  the  hills 
behind  the  town.  The  green  pine  woods  were 
gay  with  the  bright  colors  of  the  young  people. 
Here  and  there  a  caballero  dashed  up  and 
down  to  show  his  horsemanship  and  the  silver 
and  embroidered  silk  of  his  saddle.  Silver, 
too,  were  his  jingling  spurs,  the  eagles  on  his 
sombrero,  the  buttons  on  his  colorous  silken 
jacket.  Horses,  without  exception  handsomely 
trapped,  were  tethered  everywhere,  pawing  the 
ground  or  nibbling  the  grass.  The  girls  wore 
white  or  flowered  silk  or  muslin  gowns,  and 
rebosos  about  their  heads ;  the  brown  ugly 
duenas,  ever  at  their  sides,  were  foils  they 
would  gladly  have  dispensed  with.  The  tinkle 
of  the  guitar  never  ceased,  and  the  sweet  voices 
of  the  girls  and  the  rich  voices  of  the  men 
broke  forth  with  the  joyous  spontaneity  of  the 
birds'  songs  about  them. 


62  The  Doomswoman. 

Chonita  wore  a  white  silk  gown,  I  remember, 
flowered  with  blue,— large  blue  lilies.  The 
reboso  matched  the  gown.  As  soon  as  we 
arrived — we  were  a  little  late — she  was  sur- 
rounded by  caballeros  who  hardly  knew 
whether  to  like  her  or  not,  but  who  adhered 
to  the  knowledge  that  she  was  Chonita  Iturbi  y 
Moncada,  the  most  famous  beauty  of  the 
South. 

" Dios  !  but  thou  art  beautiful,"  murmured 
one,  his  dreamy  eyes  dwelling  on  her  shining 
hair. 

"  Gracias,  senor. "  She  whispered  it  as  bash- 
fully as  the  maidens  to  whom  he  was  ac- 
customed, her  eyes  fixed  upon  a  rose  she  held. 

"Wilt  thou  not  stay  with  us  here  in  Mon- 
terey ? " 

She  raised  her  eyes  slowly, — he  could  not 
but  feel  the  effort, — gave  him  one  bewildering 
glance,  half  appealing,  half  protesting,  then 
dropped  them  suddenly. 

"Wilt  thou  stay  with  me?"  panted  the 
caballero. 

' '  Ay,  senor  !  thou  must  not  speak  like  that. 
Some  one  will  hear  thee. " 

"  I  care  not  !  God  of  my  life  !  I  care  not  ! 
Wilt  thou  marry  me  ?  " 

"Thou  must  not  speak  to  me  of  marriage, 


The  Doomswoman.  63 

senor.  It  is  to  my  father  thou  must  speak. 
Would  I,  a  Californian  maiden,  betroth  myself 
without  his  knowledge  ?  " 

"  Holy  heaven  !  I  will  !  But  give  me  one 
word  that  thou  lovest  me, — one  word  ! 

She  lifted  her  chin  saucily  and  turned  to  an- 
other caballero,  who,  I  doubt  not,  proposed 
also.  Estenega,  who  had  watched  her, 
laughed. 

"She  acts  the  part  to  perfection,"  he  said  to 
me.  "Either  natural  or  acquired  coquetry  has 
more  to  do  with  saving  her  from  the  solitary 
plane  of  the  intellectual  woman  than  her  beauty 
or  her  father's  wealth.  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  it  is  acquired.  I  do  not  believe  that  she 
is  a  coquette  at  heart,  any  more  than  that  she 
is  the  marble  doomswoman  she  fondly  believes 
herself." 

"You  will  tell  her  that,"  I  exclaimed,  an- 
grily; "and  she  will  end  by  loving  you  be- 
cause you  understand  her  ;  all  women  want  to  be 
understood.  Why  don't  you  go  to  Paris  again  ? 
You  have  not  been  there  for  a  long  time." 

Not  deeming  this  suggestion  worthy  of  an- 
swer, he  left  me  and  walked  to  Chonita,  who 
was  glancing  over  the  top  of  her  fan  into  the 
ardent  eyes  of  a  third  caballero. 

"You  will  step  on  a  bunch  of  nettles  in   a 


64  The  Doomswoman. 

moment,"  he  said,  practically.  "  Your  slippers 
are  very  thin  ;  you  had  better  stand  over  here 
on  the  path."  And  he  dexterously  separated 
her  from  the  other  men.  "Will  you  walk  to 
that  opening  over  there  with  me  ?  I  want  to 
show  you  a  better  view  of  Monterey." 

His  manner  had  not  a  touch  of  gallantry, 
and  she  was  tired  of  the  caballeros. 

"Very  well/'  she  said.  "  I  will  look  at  the 
view. " 

As  she  followed  him  she  noted  that  he  led 
her  where  the  bushes  were  thinnest,  and 
kicked  the  stones  from  her  path.  She  also  re- 
marked the  nervous  energy  of  his  thin  figure. 
"It  comes  from  his  love  of  the  Americans," 
she  thought,  angrily.  "He  must  even  walk 
like  them.  The  Americans  !"  And  she  brought 
her  teeth  together  with  a  sharp  click. 

Returned,  smiling.  "You  look  very  disap- 
proving," he  said.  "  What  have  I  done  ?  " 

"You  look  like  an  American  !  You  even 
wear  their  clothes,  and  they  are  the  color  of 
smoke  ;  and  you  wear  no  lace.  How  cold  and 
uninteresting  a  scene  would  this  be  if  all  the 
men  were  dressed  as  you  are  !  " 

"We  cannot  all  be  made  for  decorative 
purposes.  And  you  are  as  unlike  those  girls, 
in  all  but  your  dress,  as  I  am  unlike  the  men. 


The  Doomswoman.  65 

I  will  not  incur  your  wrath  by  saying  that  you 
are  American  :  but  you  are  modern.  Our 
lovely  compatriots  were  the  same  three  hundred 
years  ago.  Will  Dona  California  be  pleased 
to  observe  that  whale  spouting  in  the  bay  ? 
There  is  the  tree  beneath  which  Junipero  Serra 
said  his  first  mass  in  this  part  of  the  country. 
What  a  sanctimonious  old  fraud  he  must  have 
been,  if  he  looked  anything  like  his  pictures  ! 
Did  you  ever  see  bay  bluer  than  that  ?  or  sand 
whiter?  or  a  more  perfect  semicircle  of  hills 
than  this  ?  or  a  more  straggling  town  ?  There 
is  the  Custom-house  on  the  rocks.  You  will 
go  to  a  ball  there  to-night,  and  hear  the  boom 
of  the  surf  as  you  dance. "  He  turned  with  one 
of  his  sudden  impatient  motions.  "Suppose 
we  ride.  The  air  is  too  sharp  to  lie  about 
under  the  trees.  This  white  horse  mates  your 
gown.  Let  us  go  over  to  Carmelo." 

"I  should  like  to  go,"  she  said,  doubtfully  ; 
he  had  made  her  throb  with  indignation  once 
or  twice,  but  his  conversation  interested  her 
and  her  free  spirit  approved  of  a  ride  over  the 
hills  unattended  by  duefia.  ' '  But — you  know — 
I  do  not  like  you." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that ;  the  ride  will  interest 
you  just  the  same."     And  he  lifted  her  to  the 
horse,  sprang  on   another,    caught   her  bridle, 
5 


66  TJie  Doomswoman. 

lest  she  should  rebel,  and  galloped  up  the  road. 
When  they  were  on  the  other  side  of  hill  he 
slackened  speed  and  looked  at  her  with  a  smile. 
She  was  inclined  to  be  angry,  but  found  her- 
self watching  the  varying  expressions  of  his 
mouth,  which  diverted  her  mind.  It  was  a 
baffling  mouth,  even  to  experienced  women, 
and  Chonita  could  make  nothing  of  it.  It  had 
neither  sweetness  nor  softness,  but  she  had 
never  felt  impelled  to  study  the  mouth  of  a 
caballero.  And  then  she  wondered  how  a 
man  with  a  mouth  like  that  could  have  man- 
ners so  gentle. 

"Are  you  aware/'  he  said,  abruptly,  "that 
your  brother  is  accused  of  conspiracy  ?  " 

"What?  "  She  looked  at  him  as  if  she  in- 
ferred that  this  was  the  order  of  badinage  that 
an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  might  expect  from  an 
Estenega. 

"  I  am  not  joking.      It  is  quite  true." 

"It  is  not  true  !  Reinaldo  conspire  against 
his  government  ?  Some  one  has  lied.  And  you 
are  ready  to  believe  !  " 

"I  hope  some  one  has  lied.  The  news  is 
very  direct,  however."  He  looked  at  her 
speculatively.  ' '  The  more  obstacles  the  better, " 
he  thought;  "and  we  may  as  well  declare 
war  on  this  question  at  once.  Besides,  it  is  no 


The  Doomswoman.  67 

use  to  begin  as  a  hypocrite,  when  every  act 
would  tell  her  what  I  thought  of  him.  More- 
over, he  will  have  more  or  less  influence  over 
her  until  her  eyes  are  opened  to  his  true  worth. 
She  will  not  believe  me,  of  course,  but  she  is 
a  woman  who  only  needs  an  impetus  to  do  a 
good  deal  of  thinking  and  noting."  "I  am 
going  to  make  you  angry,"  he  said.  "I  am 
going  to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  share  your  ad- 
miration of  your  brother.  He  has  ten  thousand 
words  for  every  idea,  and  although,  God 
knows,  we  have  more  time  than  anything  else 
in  this  land  of  the  poppy  where  only  the 
horses  run,  still  there  are  more  profitable  ways 
of  employing  it  than  to  listen  to  meaningless 
and  bombastic  words.  Moreover,  your  brother 
is  a  dangerous  man.  No  man  is  so  safe  in 
seclusion  as  the  one  of  large  vanities  and  small 
ambitions.  He  is  not  big  enough  to  conceive 
a  revolution,  but  is  ready  to  be  the  tool  of  any 
unscrupulous  man  who  is,  and,  having  too 
much  egotism  to  follow  orders,  will  ruin  a  pro- 
ject at  the  last  moment  by  attempting  to  think 
for  himself.  I  do  not  say  these  things  to  wan- 
tonly insult  you,  senorita,  only  to  let  you  know 
at  once  how  I  regard  your  brother,  that  you 
may  not  accuse  me  of  treachery  or  hypocrisy 
later." 


68  The  Doomswoman. 

He  had  expected  and  hoped  that  she  would 
turn  upon  him  with  a  burst  of  fury ;  but  she 
had  drawn  herself  up  to  her  most  stately  height, 
and  was  looking  at  him  with  cold  hauteur. 
Her  mouth  was  as  hard  as  a  pink  jewel,  and 
her  eyes  had  the  glitter  of  ice  in  them. 

"  Sefior, "  she  said,  "it  seems  to  me  that 
you,  too,  waste  many  words — in  speaking  of 
my  brother ;  for  what  you  say  of  him  cannot 
interest  me.  I  have  known  him  for  twenty- 
two  years  ;  you  have  seen  him  four  or  six  times. 
What  can  you  tell  me  of  him  ?  Not  only  is  he 
my  brother  and  the  natural  object  of  my  love 
and  devotion,  but  he  is  Reinaldo  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada,  the  last  male  descendant  of  his  house, 
and  as  such  I  hold  him  in  a  regard  only  second 
to  that  which  I  bear  to  my  father.  And  with 
the  blood  in  him  he  could  not  be  otherwise 
than  a  great  and  good  man." 

Estenega  looked  at  her  with  the  first  stab  of 
doubt  he  had  felt.  "She  is  Spanish  in  her 
marrow/'  he  thought,  —  "the  steadfast  un- 
reasoning child  of  traditions.  I  could  not  well 
be  at  greater  disadvantage.  But  she  is  mag- 
nificent." 

"Another  thing  which  was  unnecessary," 
she  added,  ' '  was  to  defend  yourself  to  me  or  to 
tell  me  how  you  felt  toward  my  brother,  and 


The  Doomsivoman.  69 

why.  We  are  enemies  by  tradition  and  in- 
stinct. We  shall  rarely  meet,  and  shall  prob- 
ably never  talk  together  again." 

"We  shall  talk  together  more  times  than 
you  will  care  to  count.  I  have  much  to  say 
to  you,  and  you  shall  listen.  But  we  will  dis- 
cuss the  matter  no  further  at  present.  Shall 
we  gallop  ? " 

He  spurred  his  horse,  and  once  more  they 
fled  through  the  pine  woods.  Before  long  they 
entered  the  valley  of  Carmelo.  The  mountains 
were  massive  and  gloomy,  the  little  bay  was 
blue  and  quiet,  the  surf  of  the  ocean  roared 
about  Point  Lobos,  Carmelo  River  crawled  be- 
neath its  willows.  In  the  middle  of  the  valley 
stood  the  impressive  yellow  church,  with  its 
Roman  tower  and  rose-window ;  about  it 
were  the  crumbling  brown  hovels  of  the  de- 
serted Mission.  Once  as  they  rode  Estenega 
thought  he  heard  voices,  but  could  not  be  sure, 
so  loud  was  the  clatter  of  the  horses'  hoofs. 
As  they  reached  the  square  they  drew  rein 
swiftly,  the  horses  standing  upright  at  the 
sudden  halt.  Then  strange  sounds  came  to 
them  through  the  open  doors  of  the  church  : 
ribald  shouts  and  loud  laughter,  curses  and 
noise  of  smashing  glass,  such  songs  as  never 
were  sung  in  Carmelo  before ;  an  infernal 


70  The  Doomswoman. 

clash  of  sound  which  mingled  incongruously 
with  the  solemn  mass  of  the  surf.  Chonita's 
eyes  flashed.  Even  Estenega's  face  darkened  : 
the  traditions  planted  in  plastic  youth  arose  and 
rebelled  at  the  desecration. 

' '  Some  drunken  sailors, "  he  said.  ' '  There — 
do  you  see  that  ? "  A  craft  rounded  Point 
Lobos.  "Pirates  !" 

"  Holy  Mary  !  "  exclaimed  Chonita. 

1 '  Let  down  your  hair, "  he  said,  peremptorily  ; 
' '  and  follow  all  that  I  suggest.  We  will  drive 
them  out." 

She  obeyed  him  without  question,  excited 
and  interested.  Then  they  rode  to  the  doors 
and  threw  them  wide. 

The  upper  end  of  the  long  church  was  swarm- 
ing with  pirates  ;  there  was  no  mistaking  those 
bold,  cruel  faces,  blackened  by  sun  and  wind, 
half  covered  with  ragged  hair.  They  stood  on 
the  benches,  they  bestrode  the  railing,  they 
swarmed  over  the  altar,  shouting  and  carous- 
ing in  riotous  wassail.  Their  coarse  red  shirts 
were  flung  back  from  hairy  chests,  their  faces 
were  distorted  with  rum  and  sacrilegious 
delight.  Every  station,  every  candlestick,  had 
been  hurled  to  the  floor  and  trampled  upon. 
The  crucifix  stood  on  its  head.  Sitting  high 
on  the  altar,  reeling  and  waving  a  communion 


The  Doomswoman.  71 

goblet,  was  the  drunken  chief,  singing  a  blas- 
phemous song  of  the  pirate  seas.  The  voices 
rumbled  strangely  down  the  hollow  body  of 
the  church  ;  to  perfect  the  scene  flames  should 
have  leaped  among  the  swinging  arms  and 
bounding  forms. 

"Come,"  said  Estenega.  He  spurred  his 
horse,  and  together  they  galloped  down  the 
stone  pavement  of  the  edifice.  The  men 
turned  at  the  loud  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  ;  but 
the  riders  were  in  their  midst,  scattering  them 
right  and  left,  before  they  realized  what  was 
happening. 

The  horses  were  brought  to  sudden  halt. 
Estenega  rose  in  his  stirrups,  his  fine  bold  face 
looking  down  impassively  upon  the  demoniacal 
gang  who  could  have  rent  him  apart,  but  who 
stood  silent  and  startled,  gazing  from  him  to 
the  beautiful  woman,  whose  white  gown  looked 
part  of  the  white  horse  she  rode.  Estenega 
raised  his  hand  and  pointed  to  Chonita. 

"The  Virgin,"  he  said,  in  a  hollow,  impress- 
ive voice.  "The  Mother  of  God.  She  has 
come  to  defend  her  church.  Go." 

Chonita's  face  blanched  to  the  lips,  but  she 
looked  at  the  sacrilegists  sternly.  Fortune  fav- 
ored the  audacity  of  Estenega.  The  sunlight, 
drifting  through  the  star-window  above  the 


72  The  Doomswoman. 

doors  at  the  lower  end  of  the  church,  smote 
the  uplifted  golden  head  of  Chonita,  wreathing 
it  with  a  halo,  gifting  the  face  with  unearthly 
beauty. 

"Go  !  "  repeated  Estenega,  "  lest  she  weep. 
With  every  tear  a  heart  will  cease  to  beat. " 

The  chief  scrambled  down  from  the  altar  and 
ran  like  a  rat  past  Chonita,  his  swollen  mouth 
dropping.  The  others  crouched  and  followed, 
stumbling  one  over  the  other,  their  dark  evil 
faces  bloodless,  their  knees  knocking  together 
with  superstitious  terror.  They  fled  from  the 
church  and  down  to  the  bay,  and  swam  to  their 
craft.  Estenega  and  Chonita  rode  out.  They 
watched  the  ugly  vessel  scurry  around  Point 
Lobos ;  then  Chonita  spoke  for  the  first 
time. 

"Blasphemer!"  she  exclaimed.  "Mother 
of  God,  wilt  thou  ever  forgive  me  ?  " 

"Why  not  call  me  a  Jesuit?  It  was  a  case 
where  mind  or  matter  must  triumph.  And  you 
can  confess  your  enforced  sin,  say  a  hundred 
aves  or  so,  and  be  whiter  than  snow  again  ; 
whereas,  had  our  Mission  of  Carmelo  been  razed 
to  the  ground,  as  it  was  in  a  fair  way  to  be, 
California  would  have  lost  an  historical  monu- 
ment. " 

"Andjunipero  Serra's  bones  are  there,  and 


The  Doomswomau.  73 

it  was  his  favorite  Mission,"  said  the  girl,  un- 
willingly. 

' '  Exactly.  And  now  that  you  are  reasonably 
sure  of  being  forgiven,  will  not  you  forgive 
me  ?  I  shall  ask  no  priest's  forgiveness." 

She  looked  at  him  a  moment,  then  shook  her 
head.  "No  :  I  cannot  forgive  you  for  having 
made  me  commit  what  may  be  a  mortal  sin. 
But,  Holy  Heaven  ! — I  cannot  help  saying  it — 
you  are  very  quick  !  " 

"For  each  idea  is  a  moment  born.  Upon 
whether  we  wed  the  two  or  think  too  late  de- 
pends the  success  or  the  failure  of  our  lives." 

"Suppose,"  she  said,  suddenly, — "suppose 
you  had  failed,  and  those  men  had  seized  me 
and  made  me  captive  :  what  then  ? " 

' '  I  should  have  killed  you.  Not  one  of  them 
should  have  touched  you.  But  I  had  no 
doubts,  or  I  should  not  have  made  the  attempt. 
I  know  the  superstitious  nature  of  sailors, 
especially  when  they  are  drunk.  Shall  we 
gallop  back  ?  They  will  have  eaten  all  the 
dulces." 


74  The  Doomswoman. 


VIII. 

MONTEREY  danced  every  night  and  all  night  of 
that  week,  either  at  Alvarado's  or  at  the  Custom- 
house, and  every  afternoon  met  at  the  races,  the 
bull-fight,  a  merienda,  or  to  climb  the  greased 
pole,  catch  the  greased  pig  by  its  tail  as  it  ran,  or 
exhibit  skill  in  horsemanship.  Chonita,  at  times 
an  imperious  coquette,  at  others,  indifferent,  per- 
verse, or  coy,  was  La  Favorita  without  appeal,  and 
the  girls  alternately  worshipped  her — she  was  ab- 
stractedly kind  to  them — or  heartily  wished  her 
back  in  Santa  Barbara.  Estenega  rarely  attended 
the  socialities,  being  closeted  with  Alvarado  and 
Castro  most  of  the  time,  and  when  he  did  she 
avoided  him  if  she  could.  The  pirates  had  fled 
and  were  seen  no  more ;  but  their  abrupt  retreat, 
as  described  by  Chonita,  continued  to  be  an  excit- 
ing topic  of  discussion.  There  were  few  of  us  who 
did  not  openly  or  secretly  approve  of  Estenega's 
Jesuitism  and  admire  the  nimbleness  of  his  mind. 
The  clergy  did  not  express  itself. 

On  the  last  night  of  the  festivities,  when  the 
women,  weary  with  the  unusually  late  hours 
of  the  past  week,  had  left  the  ball-room  early 
and  sought  their  beds,  and  the  men,  being  at 
loss  for  other  amusement,  had  gone  in  a  body 


The  Doomswornan.  75 

to  a  saloon,  there  to  drink  and  gamble  and  set 
fire  to  each  other's  curls  and  trouser-seats,  the 
Departmental  Junta  met  in  secret  session. 
The  night  was  warm,  the  plaza  deserted ;  all 
who  were  not  in  the  saloon  at  the  other  end  of 
the  town  were  asleep  ;  and  after  the  preliminary 
words  in  Alvarado's  office  the  Junta  picked  up 
their  chairs  and  went  forth  to  hold  conclave 
where  bulls  and  bears  had  fought  and  the  large 
indulgent  moon  gave  clearer  light  than  adaman- 
tine candles.  They  drew  close  together,  and, 
after  rolling  the  cigarito,  solemnly  regarded 
the  sky  for  a  few  moments  without  speaking. 
Their  purpose  was  a  grave  one.  They  met  to 
try  Pio  Pico  for  contempt  of  government  and 
annoying  insistence  in  behalf  of  his  pet  project 
to  remove  the  capital  from  Monterey  to  Los 
Angeles  ;  Jose  Antonio  Carillo  and  Reinaldo 
Iturbi  y  Moncada  for  conspiracy ;  and  General 
Vallejo  for  evil  disposition  and  unwarrantable 
comments  upon  the  policy  of  the  administra- 
tion. None  of  the  offenders  was  present. 

With  the  exception  ofAlvarado,  Castro,  and 
Estenega,  the  members  of  the  Junta  were  men 
of  middle  age,  and  represented  the  talent  of 
California, — Jimeno,  Gonzales,  Arguello,  Re- 
quena,  Del  Valle.  Their  dark,  bearded  faces, 
upturned  to  the  stars,  made  a  striking  set  of 


76  The  Doomsiuoman. 

profiles,  but  the  effect  was  marred  by  the  silk 
handkerchiefs  they  had  tied  about  their  heads. 

Alvarado  spoke,  finally,  and,  after  presenting 
the  charges  in  due  form,  continued  : 

"The  individual  enemy  to  the  government 
is  like  the  fly  to  the  lion  ;  it  cannot  harm,  but 
it  can  annoy.  We  must  brush  away  the  fly  as 
a  vindication  of  our  dignity,  and  take  precau- 
tion that  he  does  not  return,  even  if  we  have  to 
bend  our  heads  to  tie  his  little  legs.  I  do  not 
purpose  to  be  annoyed  by  these  blistering  mid- 
gets we  are  met  to  consider,  nor  to  have  my 
term  of  administration  spotted  with  their  gall. 
I  leave  it  to  you,  my  compatriots  and  friends, 
to  advise  me  what  is  best  to  do. " 

Jimeno  put  his  feet  on  the  side  rung  of  Cas- 
tro's chair,  puffed  a  large  gray  cloud,  and  half 
closed  his  eyes.  He  then,  for  three-quarters  of 
an  hour,  in  a  low,  musical  voice,  discoursed 
upon  the  dignity  of  the  administration  and  the 
depravity  of  the  offenders.  When  his  brethren 
were  beginning  to  drop  their  heads  and  breathe 
heavily,  Alvarado  politely  interrupted  him  and 
referred  the  matter  to  Castro. 

11  Imprison  them  !  "  exclaimed  the  impetuous 
General,  suddenly  alert.  ' '  With  such  a  Gover- 
nor and  such  a  people,  this  should  be  a  land 
white  as  the  mountain-tops,  unblemished  by 


The  Doomswoman.  77 

the  tracks  of  mean  ambitions  and  sinful  revolu- 
tions. Let  us  be  summary,  although  not  cruel ; 
let  no  man's  blood  flow  while  there  are  prisons 
in  the  Californias  ;  but  we  must  pluck  up  the 
roots  of  conspiracy  and  disquiet,  lest  a  thou- 
sand suckers  grow  about  them,  as  about  the 
half-cut  trunks  of  our  redwood-trees,  and  our 
Californias  be  no  better  than  any  degenerate 
country  of  the  Old  World.  Let  us  cast  them 
into  prison  without  further  debate." 

"The  law,  my  dear  Jose,  gives  them  a  trial," 
drawled  Gonzales.  And  then  for  a  half-hour 
he  quoted  such  law  as  was  known  in  the 
country.  When  he  finished,  the  impatient  and 
suppressed  members  of  the  Junta  delivered 
their  opinions  simultaneously  ;  only  Estenega 
had  nothing  to  say.  They  argued  and  suggest- 
ed, cited  evidence,  defended  and  denounced, 
lashing  themselves  into  a  mighty  excitement. 
At  length  they  were  all  on  their  feet,  gesticu- 
lating and  prancing. 

"Mother  of  God  !  "  cried  Requena.  " Let  us 
give  Vallejo  a  taste  of  his  own  cruelty.  Let  us 
put  him  in  atemascal  and  set  those  of  his  Indian 
victims  who  are  still  alive  to  roast  him  out — 

"  No  !  no  !  Vallejo  is  maligned.  He  had  no 
hand  in  that  massacre.  His  heart  is  whiter 
than  an  angel's " 


78  The  Dooms-woman. 

"It  is  his  liver  that  is  white.  His  heart  is 
black  as  a  black  snake's.  To  the  devil  with 
him  !  " 

"  Make  a  law  that  Pio  Pico  can  never  put 
foot  out  »f  Los  Angeles  again,  since  he  loves 
it  so  well — 

"  His  ugly  face  .would  spoil  the  next  gener- 
ation  " 

"Death  to  Carillo  and  Iturbi  y  Moncada  ! 
Death  to  all  !  Let  the  poison  out  of  the  veins 
of  California !  " 

"  No  !  no  !  As  little  blood  in  California  as 
possible.  Put  them  in  prison,  and  keep  them 
on  frijoles  and  water  for  a  year.  That  will 
cure  rebellion  :  no  chickens,  no  dulces,  no 
aguardiente " 

Alvarado  brought  his  staff  of  office  down 
sharply  upon  a  board  he  had  provided  for  the 
purpose. 

.  "Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "will  you  not  sit 
down  and  smoke  another  cigarito  ?  We  must 
be  calm." 

The  Junta  took  to  its  chairs  at  once.  Alva- 
rado never  failed  to  command  respect. 

"Don  Diego  Estenega, '"  said  the  Governor, 
"  will  you  tell  us  what  you  have  thought  whilst 
the  others  have  talked  ?  " 

Estenega,  who  had  been  star-gazing,  turned 


The  Doomswoman.  79 

to  Alvarado,  ignoring1  the  Junta.  His  keen 
brilliant  eyes  gave  the  Governor  a  thrill  of  re- 
lief ;  his  mouth  expressed  a  mind  made  up  and 
intolerant  of  argument. 

"  Vallejo, "  he  said,  "is  like  a  horse  that  will 
neither  run  nor  back  into  his  stall  :  he  merely 
stands  still  and  kicks.  His  kicking  makes  a 
noise  and  raises  a  dust,  but  does  no  harm.  In 
other  words,  he  will  irritate,  but  never  take  a 
responsibility.  Send  him  an  official  notice  that 
if  he  does  not  keep  quiet  an  armed  force  will 
march  upon  Sonoma  and  imprison  him  in  his 
own  house,  humiliating  him  before  the  eyes  of 
his  soldiers  and  retainers. 

"As  for  Pio  Pico,  threaten  to  fine  and  pun- 
ish him.  He  will  apologize  at  once  and  be 
quiet  for  six  months,  when  you  can  call  another 
secret  session  and  issue  another  threat.  It 
would  prolong  the  term  of  his  submission  to 
order  him  to  appear  before  the  Junta  and  make 
it  an  apology  with  due  humility. 

"Now  for  Carillo  and  Reinaldo  Iturbi  y 
Moncada."  He  paused  a  moment  and  glanced 
at  Chonita's  grating.  He  had  the  proofs  of  her 
brother's  rascality  in  his  pocket ;  no  one  but 
himself  had  seen  them.  He  hesitated  the  frac- 
tion of  another  moment,  then  smiled  grimly. 
"Oh,  Helen  !"  he  thought,  "the  same  old  story." 


8o  The  Doomswoman. 

"That  Carillo  is  guilty,"  he  said  aloud,  "is 
proven  to  us  beyond  doubt.  He  has  incited 
rebellion  against  the  government  in  behalf  of 
Carlos  Carillo.  He  is  dangerous  to  the  peace 
of  the  country.  Iturbi  y  Moncada  is  young 
and  heedless,  hardly  to  be  considered  seriously  ; 
furthermore,  it  is  impossible  to  obtain  proof  of 
his  complicity.  His  intimacy  with  Carillo  gives 
him  the  appearance  of  guilt.  It  would  be  well 
to  frighten  him  a  little  by  a  short  term  of  im- 
prisonment. He  is  restless  and  easily  led  ;  a 
lesson  in  time  may  save  his  honored  house 
from  disaster.  But  to  Carillo  no  quarter."  He 
rose  and  stood  over  them.  "The  best  thing 
in  Machiavelli's  'Prince/"  he  said,  "is  the  au- 
thor's advice  to  Caesar  Borgia  to  exterminate 
every  member  of  the  reigning  house  of  a  con- 
quered country,  in  order  to  avoid  future  revo- 
lutions and  their  infinitely  greater  number  of 
dead.  Do  not  let  the  water  in  your  blood 
whimper  for  mercy.  You  are  not  here  to  pro- 
tect an  individual,  but  a  country." 

"You  are  right, "said  Alvarado. 

The  others  looked  at  the  young  man  who  had 
merely  given  them  the  practical  advice  of  state- 
craft as  if  he  had  opened  his  chest  and  displayed 
the  lamp  of  wisdom  burning.  His  freedom  from 
excitement  in  all  ordeals  which  animated  them 


The  Dooms-woman.  81 

to  madness  had  long  ago  inspired  the  suspicion 
that  he  was  rather  more  than  human.  They 
uttered  not  a  protest.  Alvarado's  one-eyed 
secretary  made  notes  of  their  approval ;  and 
the  Junta,  after  another  friendly  smoke,  ad- 
journed, well  pleased  with  itself. 

''Would  I  sacrifice  my  country  for  her  a 
year  hence  ? "  thought  Estenega,  as  he  saun- 
tered home.  "But,  after  all,  little  harm  is 
done.  He  is  not  worth  killing,  and  fright  and 
discomfort  will  probably  cure  him." 


82  The  Doomswoman. 


IX. 


CHONITA  and  Estenega  faced  each  other  among 
theCastilian  roses  of  the  garden  behind  the  Gov- 
ernor's house.  The  duena  was  nodding  in  a 
corner  ;  the  first-born  of  the  Alvarados,  scream- 
ing within,  absorbed  the  attention  of  every 
member  of  the  household,  from  the  frantic 
young  mother  to  the  practical  nurse. 

"  My  brother  is  to  be  arrested,  you  say  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  And  at  your  suggestion  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"And  he  may  die  ?  " 

"Possibly." 

"Nothing  would  have  been  done  if  it  had 
not  been  for  you  ?  " 

"Nothing." 

"God  of  my  life  !  Mother  of  God!  how  I 
hate  you  !  " 

"It  is  war,  then?" 

"I  would  kill  you  if  I  were  not  a  Catholic." 

"I  will  make  you  forget  that  you  are  a 
Catholic." 


The  Doomswoman.  83 

"You  have  made  me  remember  it  to  my 
bitterest  sorrow.  I  hate  you  so  mortally  that 
I  cannot  go  to  confession  :  I  cannot  forgive." 

"I  hope  you  will  continue  to  hate  for  a 
time.  Now  listen  to  me.  You  have  several 
reasons  for  hating  me.  My  house  is  the  enemy 
of  yours.  I  am  to  all  intents  and  purposes  an 
American  ;  you  can  consider  me  as  such.  I 
have  that  indifference  for  religious  superstition 
and  intolerance  for  religion's  thraldom  which 
all  minds  larger  of  circumference  than  a  napkin- 
ring  must  come  to  in  time.  I  have  endangered 
the  life  of  your  brother,  and  I  have  opposed  and 
shall  oppose  him  in  his  political  aspirations  ; 
he  has  my  unequivocal  contempt.  Neverthe- 
less, I  tell  you  here  that  I  should  marry  you 
were  there  five  hundred  reasons  for  your  hatred 
of  me  instead  of  a  paltry  five.  I  shall  take 
pleasure  in  demonstrating  to  you  that  there  is 
a  force  in  the  universe  a  good  deal  stronger 
than  traditions,  religion,  or  even  family  ties." 

His  eyes  were  not  those  of  a  lover ;  they 
shone  like  steel.  His  mouth  was  forbidding. 
She  drew  back  from  him  in  terror,  then  struck 
her  hands  together  passionately. 

"  I  marry  you  !  "  she  cried.  "An  Estenega  ! 
A  renegade  ?  May  God  cast  me  out  of  heaven 
if  I  do  !  There,  I  have  sworn  !  I  have  sworn  ! 


84  The  Doomswoman. 

Do  you  think  a  Catholic  would  break  that  vow  ? 
I  swear  it  by  the  Church, — and  I  put  the  whole 
Church  between  us  !  '' 

"I  told  you  just  now  that  I  would  make  you 
forget  your  Church.''  He  caught  her  hand  and 
held  it  firmly.  "  A  last  word,"  he  said.  "Your 
brother's  life  is  safe  :  I  promise  you  that." 

"Let  me  go  !  "  she  said.  "Let  me  go  !  I 
fear  you. "  She  was  trembling  ;  his  warmth  and 
magnetism  had  sprung  to  her  shoulder. 

He  gave  her  back  her  hand.  "Go,"  he 
said:  "so  ends  the  first  chapter/' 


The  Doomswoman.  85 


X. 


CASA  GRANDE,*  the  mansion  of  the  Iturbi  y 
Moncadas  in  Santa  Barbara,  stood  at  the  right 
of  the  Presidio,  facing  the  channel.  A  mile 
behind,  under  the  shadow  of  the  gaunt  rocky 
hills  curving  about  the  valley,  was  the  long 
white  Mission,  with  its  double  towers,  corridor 
of  many  arches,  and  sloping  roof  covered  with 
red  tiles.  Between  was  the  wild  valley  where 
cattle  grazed  among  the  trees  and  the  massive 
bowlders.  The  red-tiled  white  adobe  houses  of 
the  Presidio  and  of  the  little  town  clustered 
under  its  wing,  the  brown  mud  huts  of  the 
Indians,  were  grouped  in  the  foreground  of  the 
deep  valley. 

The  great  house  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas, 
erected  in  the  first  years  of  the  century,  was 
built  about  three  sides  of  a  court,  measuring 

*  In  writing  of  Casa  Grande  and  its  inmates,  no  reference 
to  the  distinguished  De  la  Guerra  family  of  Santa  Barbara 
is  intended,  beyond  the  description  of  their  house  and  state 
and  of  the  general  characteristics  of  the  founder  of  the 
family  fortunes  in  California. 


86  The  Doomsivoman. 

one  hundred  feet  each  way.  Like  most  of  the 
adobes  of  i's  time,  it  had  but  one  story.  A 
wide  pillared  corridor,  protected  by  a  sloping 
roof,  faced  the  court,  which  was  as  bare  and 
hard  as  the  floor  of  a  ball-room.  Behind  the 
dwelling  were  the  manufactories  and  huts  of 
the  Indian  retainers.  Don  Guillermo  Iturbi  y 
Moncada  was  the  magnate  of  the  South.  His 
ranches  covered  four  hundred  thousand  acres  ; 
his  horses  and  cattle  were  unnumbered.  His 
Indians,  carpenters,  coopers,  saddlers,  shoe- 
makers, weavers,  manufacturers  of  household 
staples,  supplied  the  garrison  and  town  with 
the  necessaries  of  life  ;  he  also  did  a  large  trad- 
ing business  in  hides'  and  tallow.  Rumor  had 
it  that  in  the  wooden  tower  built  against  the 
back  of  the  house  he  kept  gold  by  the  bushel- 
basketful  ;  but  no  one  called  him  miser,  for  he 
gave  the  poor  of  the  town  all  they  ate  and 
wore,  and  kept  a  supply  of  drugs  for  their  sick. 
So  beloved  and  revered  was  he  that  when 
earthquakes  shook  the  town,  or  fires  threatened 
it  from  the  hills,  the  poor  ran  in  a  body  to  the 
court-yard  of  Casa  Grande  and  besought  his 
protection.  They  never  passed  him  without 
saluting  to  the  ground,  nor  his  house  without 
bending  their  heads.  And  yet  they  feared 
him,  for  he  was  an  irascible  old  gentleman  at 


The  Doomswomatt.  87 

times,  and  thumped  unmercifully  when  in  a 
temper.  Chonita,  alone,  could  manage  him 
always. 

When  I  returned  to  Santa  Barbara  with 
Chonita  after  her  visit  to  Monterey,  the  yellow 
fruit  hung  in  the  padres'  orchard,  the  grass  was 
burning  brown,  sky  and  water  were  the  hard 
blue  of  metal. 

The  afternoon  of  our  arrival,  Don  Guillermo, 
Chonita,  and  I  were  on  the  long  middle  cor- 
ridor of  the  house  :  in  Santa  Barbara  one  lived 
in  the  air.  The  old  don  sat  on  the  long  green 
bench  by  the  sala  door.  His  heavy,  flabby, 
leathery  face  had  no  wrinkles  but  those  which 
curved  from  the  corners  of  the  mouth  to  the 
chin.  The  thin  upper  lip  was  habitually  pressed 
hard  against  the  small  protruding  under  one, 
the  mouth  ending  in  straight  lines  which  seemed 
no  part  of  the  lips.  His  small  slanting  eyes, 
usually  stern,  could  snap  with  anger,  as  they 
did  to-day.  The  nose  rose  suddenly  from  the 
middle  of  his  face  ;  it  might  have  been  applied 
by  a  child  sculpturing  with  putty  ;  the  flat 
bridge  was  crossed  by  erratic  lines.  A  bang  of 
grizzled  hair  escaped  from  the  black  silk  hand- 
kerchief wound  as  tightly  as  a  turban  about  his 
head.  He  wore  short  clothes  of  dark  brown 
cloth,  the  jacket  decorated  with  large  silver 


88  The  Doomswoman. 

buttons,  a  red  damask  vest,  shoes  of  embroid- 
ered deer-skin,  and  a  cravat  of  fine  linen. 

Chonita,  in  a  white  gown,  a  pale-green  reboso 
about  her  shoulders,  her  arms  crossed,  her  head 
thoughtfully  bent  forward,  walked  slowly  up 
and  down  before  him. 

"  Holy  God  !  "  cried  the  old  man,  pounding 
the  floor  with  his  stick.  "That  they  have 
dared  to  arrest  my  son  ! — the  son  of  Guiller- 
mo  Iturbi  y  Moncada !  That  Alvarado,  my 
friend  and  thy  host,  should  have  permitted 
it!" 

"Do  not  blame  Alvarado,  my  father.  Re- 
member, he  must  listen  to  the  Departmental 
Junta;  and  this  is  their  work."  "Fool  that  I 
am  !  "  she  added  to  herself,  "  why  do  I  not  tell 
who  alone  is  to  blame  ?  But  I  need  no  one  to 
help  me  hate  him!  " 

"Is  it  true  that  this  Estenega  of  whom  I  hear 
so  much  is  a  member  of  the  Junta  ?  " 

"It  maybe." 

"If  so,  it  is  he,  he  alone,  who  has  brought 
dishonor  upon  my  house.  Again  they  have 
conquered  !  " 

"This  Estenega  I  met — and  who  was  com- 
padre  with  me  for  the  baby — is  little  in  Califor- 
nia, my  father.  If  it  be  he  who  is  a  member  of 
the  Junta,  he  could  hardly  rule  such  men  as 


The  Doomswoman.  89 

Alvarado,  Jimeno,  and  Castro.      I  saw  no  other 
Estenega." 

"True  !  I  must  have  other  enemies  in  the 
North ;  but  I  had  not  known  of  it.  But  they 
shall  learn  of  my  power  in  the  South.  Don 
Juan  de  la  Borrasca  went  to-day  to  Los  Angeles 
with  a  bushel  of  gold  to  bail  my  son,  and  both 
will  be  with  us  the  day  after  to-morrow.  A 
curse  upon  Carillo — but  I  will  speak  of  it  no 
more.  Tell  me,  my  daughter, — God  of  my 
soul,  but  I  am  glad  to  have  thee  back  ! — what 
thoughtest  thou  of  this  son  of  the  Estenegas  ? 
Is  it  Ramon,  Este'ban,  or  Diego  ?  I  have  seen 
none  of  them  since  they  were  little  ones.  I 
remember  Diego  well.  He  had  lightning  in  bis 
little  tongue,  and  the  devil  in  his  brain.  I 
liked  him,  although  he  was  the  son  of  my 
enemy  ;  and  if  he  had  been  an  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada  I  would  have  made  a  great  man  of  him. 
Ay  !  but  he  was  quick.  One  day  in  Monterey, 
he  got  under  my  feet  and  I  fell  flat,  much  im- 
perilling my  dignity,  for  it  was  on  Alvarado 
Street,  and  I  was  a  member  of  the  Territorial 
Deputation.  I  could  have  beaten  him,  I  was 
so  angry ;  but  he  scrambled  to  his  little  feet, 
and,  helping  me  to  mine,  he  said,  whilst  dodg- 
ing my  stick,  'Be  not  angry,  senor.  I  gave 
my  promise  to  the  earth  that  thou  shouldst 


90  'Uie  Doomswoman. 

kiss  her,  for  all  the  world  has  prayed  that  she 
should  not  embrace  thee  for  ninety  years  to 
come.'  What  could  I  do  ?  I  gave  him  a  cake. 
Thou  smilest,  my  daughter  ;  but  thou  wilt  not 
commend  the  enemy  of  thy  house,  no  ?  Ah, 
well,  we  grow  less  bitter  as  we  grow  old ;  and 
although  I  hated  his  father  I  liked  Diego. 
Again,  I  remember,  I  was  in  Monterey,  and 
he  was  there  ;  his  father  and  I  were  both  mem- 
bers of  the  Deputation.  Caramba  !  what  hot 
words  passed  between  us  !  But  I  was  thinking 
of  Diego.  I  took  a  volume  of  Shakespeare 
from  him  one  day.  '  Thou  art  too  young  to 
read  such  books/  I  said.  'A  baby  reading 
what  the  good  priests  allow  not  men  to  read. 
I  have  not  read  this  heretic  book  of  plays,  and 
yet  thou  dost  lie  there  on  thy  stomach  and 
drink  in  its  wickedness/  '  It  is  true/  he  said, 
and  how  his  steel  eyes  did  flash  ;  '  but  when  I 
am  as  old  as  you,  sefior,  my  stomach  will  be 
flat  and  my  head  will  be  big.  Thou  art  the 
enemy  of  my  father,  but — hast  thou  noticed? 
— thy  stomach  is  bigger  than  his,  and  he  has 
conquered  thee  in  speech  and  in  politics  more 
times  than  thou  hast  found  vengeance  for. 
Ay  ! — and  thy  ranches  have  richer  soil  and 
many  more  cattle,  but  he  has  a  library,  Don 
Guillermo,  and  thou  hast  not.'  I  spanked  him 


The  Doomswoman.  91 

then  and  there  ;  but  I  never  forgot  what  he 
said,  and  thou  hast  read  what  thou  listed. 
I  would  not  that  the  children  of  Alejandro 
Estenega  should  know  more  than  those  of 
Guillermo  Iturbi  y  Moncada." 

"  Thou  hast  cause  to  be  proud  of  Reinaldo, 
for  he  sparkles  like  the  spray  of  the  fountain, 
and  words  are  to  him  like  a  shower  of  leaves 
in  autumn.  And  yet,  and  yet,"  she  added, 
with  angry  candor,  ' '  he  has  not  a  brain  like 
Diego  Estenega.  He  is  not  a  man,  but  a 
devil. " 

"A  good  brain  has  always  a  devil  at  the 
wheel ;  sharp  eyes  have  sharper  nerves  behind  ; 
and  lightning  from  a  big  soul  flashes  fear  into 
a  little  one.  Diego  is  not  a  devil, — I  remem- 
ber once  I  had  a  headache,  and  he  bathed  my 
head,  and  the  water  ran  down  my  neck  and 
gave  me  a  cold  which  put  me  to  bed  for  a 
week, — but  he  is  the  devil's  godson,  and  were 
he  not  the  son  of  my  enemy  I  should  love  him. 
His  father  was  cruel  and  vicious — but  smart, 
Holy  Mary  !  Diego  has  his  brain  ;  but  he  has, 

too,  the  kind  heart  and  gentle  manner Ay  ! 

Holy  God  ! — Come,  come  :  here  are  the  horses. 
Call  Prudencia,  and  we  will  go  to  the  bark  and 
see  what  the  good  captain  has  brought  to 
tempt  us." 


92  The  Doomswoman. 

Four  horses  led  by  vaqueros,  had  entered 
the  court-yard. 

"  Prudencia,"  called  Chonita. 

A  door  opened,  and  a  girl  of  small  figure, 
with  solemn  dark  eyes  and  cream-like  skin,  her 
hair  hanging  in  heavy  braids  to  her  feet,  stepped 
upon  the  corridor,  draping  a  pink  reboso  about 
her  head. 

"I  am  here,  my  cousin,"  she  said,  walking 
with  all  the  dignity  of  the  Spanish  woman, 
despite  her  plump  and  inconsiderable  person. 
' '  Thou  art  rested,  Dona  Eustaquia  ?  Do  we  go 
to  the  ship,  my  uncle?  and  shall  we  buy  this 
afternoon  ?  God  of  my  life  !  I  wonder  has  he 
a  high  comb  to  make  me  look  tall,  and  flesh- 
colored  stockings.  My  own  are  gone  with 
holes.  I  do  not  like  white " 

* '  Hush  thy  chatter, "  said  her  uncle.  ' '  How 
can  I  tell  what  the  captain  has  until  I  see? 
Come,  my  children." 

We  sprang  to  our  saddles,  Don  Guillermo 
mounted  heavily,  and  we  cantered  to  the 
beach,  followed  by*  the  ox-cart  which  would 
carry  the  fragile  cargo  home.  A  boat  took  us 
to  the  bark,  which  sat  motionless  on  the  placid 
channel.  The  captain  greeted  us  with  the 
lively  welcome  due  to  eager  and  frequent  pur- 
chasers. 


The  Doomswoman.  93 

"Now,  curb  thy  greed,"  cried  Don  Guillermo, 
as  the  girls  dropped  down  the  companion-way, 
"for  thou  hast  more  now  than  thou  canst  wear 
in  five  years.  God  of  my  soul  !  if  a  bark  came 
every  day  they  would  want  every  shred  on 
board.  My  daughter  could  tapestry  the  old 
house  with  the  shawls  she  has." 

When  I  reached  the  cabin  I  found  the  table 
covered  with  silks,  satins,  crepe,  shawls,  combs, 
articles  of  lacquer-ware,  jewels,  silk  stockings, 
slippers,  spangled  tulle,  handkerchiefs,  lace, 
fans.  The  girls' eyes  were  sparkling.  Chonita 
clapped  her  hands  and  ran  around  the  table, 
pressing  to  her  lips  the  beautiful  white  things 
she  quickly  segregated,  running  her  hand 
eagerly  over  the  little  slippers,  hanging  the 
lace  about  her  shoulders,  twisting  a  rope  of 
garnets  in  her  yellow  hair. 

"  Never  have  they  been  so  beautiful,  Eusta- 
quia  !  Is  it  not  so,  my  Prudencia  ?  "  she  cried 
to  the  girl,  who  was  curled  on  one  corner  of 
the  table,  gloating  over  the  treasures  she  knew 
her  uncle's  generosity  would  make  her  own. 
"Look,  how  these  little  diamonds  flash  !  And 
the  embroidery  on  this  crepe ! — a  dozen  eyes 
went  out  ay  !  yi  !  This  satin  is  like  a  tile  ! 
These  fans  were  made  in  Spain  !  This  is  as  big 
as  a  windmill.  God  of  my  soul  !  '* — she  threw 


94  The  Doomswoman. 

a  handful  of  yellow  sewing-silk  upon  a  piece  of 
white  satin  ;  "Ana  shall  embroider  this  gown, 
—the  golden  poppies  of  California  on  a  bank  of 
mountain  snow."  She  suddenly  seized  a  case 
of  topaz  and  a  piece  of  scarlet  silk  and  ran  over 
to  me  :  I  being  a  Monterena,  etiquette  forbade 
me  to  purchase  in  Santa  Barbara.  "Thou 
must  have  these,  my  Eustaquia.  They  will 
become  thee  well.  And  wouldst  thou  like  any 
of  my  white  things  ?  Mary  !  but  I  am  selfish. 
Take  what  thou  wilt,  my  friend." 

To  refuse  would  be  to  spoil  her  pleasure  and 
insult  her  hospitality  :  so  I  accepted  the  topaz 
— of  which  I  had  six  sets  already — and  the  silk, 
— whose  color  prevailed  in  my  wardrobe, — and 
told  her  that  I  detested  white,  which  did  not 
suit  my  weather-dark  skin,  and  she  was  as  blind 
and  as  pleased  as  a  child. 

"  But  come,  come,"  she  cried.  "  My  father 
is  not  so  generous  when  he  has  to  wait  too 
long." 

She  gathered  the  mass  of  stuff  in  her  arms  and 
staggered  up  the  companion-way.  I  followed, 
leaving  Prudencia  raking  the  trove  her  short 
arms  would  not  hold 

"Ay,  my  Chonita  I"  she  wailed,  "I  cannot 
carry  that  big  piece  of  pink  satin  and  that 
vase.  And  I  have  only  two  pairs  of  slippers 


The  Doomswoman.  95 

and  one  fan.  Ay,  Cho-n-i-i-ta,  look  at  those 
shawls  !  Mother  of  God,  suppose  Valencia 
Menendez  comes — 

"Do  not  weep  on  the  silk  and  spoil  what 
thou  hast,"  called  down  Chonita  from  the  top 
step.  "  Thou  shalt  have  all  thou  canst  wear 
for  a  year. " 

She  reached  the  deck  and  stood  panting1 
and  imperious  before  her  father.  "  All !  All !  I 
must  have  all !  "  she  cried.  "  Never  have  they 
been  so  fine,  so  rich." 

"Holy  Mary!"  shrieked  Don  Guillermo. 
"Dost  thou  think  I  am  made  of  doubloons, 
that  thou  wouldst  buy  a  whole  ship's  cargo  ? 
Thou  shalt  have  a  quarter ;  no  more, — not  a 
yard  !  " 

' '  I  will  have  all  !  "  And  the  stately  daughter 
of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas  stamped  her  little 
foot  upon  the  deck. 

' '  A  third,  — not  a  yard  more.  And  diamonds  ! 
Holy  Heaven  !  There  is  not  gold  enough  in 
the  Californias  to  feed  the  extravagance  of  the 
Senorita  Dona  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada." 

She  managed  to  bend  her  body  in  spite  of 
her  burden,  her  eyes  flashing  saucily  above  the 
mass  of  tulle  which  covered  the  rest  of  her 
face. 

"And  not  fine  raiment  enough  in  the  world 


96  The  Doom  sworn  an. 

to  accord  with  the  state  of  the  only  daughter 
of  the  Sefior  Don  Guillermo  Iturbi  y  Moncada, 
the  delight  and  the  pride  of  his  old  age.  Wilt 
thou  send  these  things  to  the  North,  to  be  worn 
by  an  Estenega  ?  Thy  Chonita  will  cry  her 
eyes  so  red  that  she  will  be  known  as  the  ugly 
witch  of  Santa  Barbara,  and  Casa  Grande  will 
be  like  a  tomb. " 

"Oh,   thou  spoilt   baby!     Thou  wilt    have 
thy    way—  At    this    moment    Prudencia 

appeared.  Nothing  whatever  could  be  seen  of 
her  small  person  but  her  feet ;  she  looked  like 
an  exploded  bale  of  goods.  "What !  what  !  " 
gasped  Don  Guillermo.  "Thou  little  rat! 
Thou  wouldst  make  a  Christmas  doll  of  thyself 
with  satin  that  is  too  heavy  for  thy  grand- 
mother, and  eke  out  thy  dumpy  inches  with  a 
train  ?  Oh,  Mother  of  God  !  "  He  turned  to 
the  captain,  who  was  smoking  complacently, 
assured  of  the  issue.  "I  will  let  them  carry 
these  things  home  ;  but  to-morrow  one-half, 
at  least,  comes  back."  And  he  stamped  wrath- 
fully  down  the  deck. 

"Send  the  rest,"  said  Chonita  to  the  captain, 
"and  thou  shalt  have  a  bag  of  gold  to-night." 


The  Doomswoman.  97 


XI. 


THE  next  morning  Chonita,  clad  in  a  long 
gown  of  white  wool,  a  silver  cross  at  her 
throat,  her  hair  arranged  like  a  coronet,  sat  in 
a  large  chair  in  the  dispensary.  Her  father 
stood  beside  a  table,  parcelling  drugs.  The 
sick-poor  of  Santa  Barbara  passed  them  in  a 
long  line. 

The  Doomswoman  exercised  her  power  to 
heal,  the  birthright  of  the  twin. 

11 1  wonder  if  I  can,"  she  said  to  me,  laying 
her  white  fingers  on  a  knotted  arm,  "  or  if  it  is 
my  father's  medicines.  I  have  no  right  to 
question  this  beautiful  faith  of  my  country,  but 
I  really  don't  see  how  I  do  it.  Still,  I  suppose 
it  is  like  many  things  in  our  religion,  not 
for  mere  human  beings  to  understand.  This 
pleases  my  vanity,  at  least.  I  wonder  if  I 
shall  have  cause  to  exercise  my  other  endow- 
ment." 

' '  To  curse  ?  " 

"Yes:  I  think  I  might  do  that  with  some- 
thing more  of  sincerity." 
7 


98  The  Doomswoman. 

The  men,  women,  and  children,  native  Cali- 
fornians  and  Indians,  scrubbed  for  the  occa- 
sion, filed  slowly  past  her,  and  she  touched 
all  kindly  and  bade  them  be  well.  They  re- 
garded her  with  adoring  eyes  and  bent  "almost 
to  the  ground. 

"Perhaps  they  will  help  me  out  of  purga- 
tory," she  said  ;  "and  it  is  something  to  be 
on  a  pedestal  ;  I  should  not  like  to  come  down. 
It  is  a  cheap  victory,  but  so  are  most  of  the 
victories  that  the  world  knows  of." 

When  she  had  touched  nearly  a  hundred, 
they  gathered  about  her,  and  she  spoke  a  few 
words  to  them. 

"My  friends,  go,  and  say,  '  I  shall  be  well.' 
Does  not  the  Bible  say  that  faith  shall  make  ye 
whole  ?  Cling  to  your  faith  !  Believe  !  Be- 
lieve !  Else  will  you  feel  as  if  the  world 
crumbled  beneath  your  feet !  And  there  is 
nothing,  nothing  to  take  its  place.  What  folly, 
what  presumption,  to  suggest  that  anything  can 

— a  mortal  passion "  She  stopped  suddenly, 

and  continued  coldly,  "  Go,  my  friends  ;  words 
do  not  come  easily  to  me  to-day.  Go,  and 
God  grant  that  you  may  be  well  and  happy." 


The  Doomswoman.  99 


XII. 

WE  sat  in  the  sala  the  next  evening-,  await- 
ing the  return  of  the  prodigal  and  his  deliverer. 
The  night  was  cool,  and  the  doors  were 
closed  ;  coals  burned  in  a  roof-tile.  The  room, 
unlike  most  California!!  salas,  boasted  a  carpet, 
and  the  furniture  was  covered  with  green  rep, 
instead  of  the  usual  black  horse-hair. 

Don  Guillermo  patted  the  table  gently  with 
his  open  palm,  accompanying  the  tinkle  of 
Prudencia's  guitar  and  her  light  monotonous 
voice.  She  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  chair,  her 
solemn  eyes  fixed  on  a  painting  of  Reinaldo 
which  hung  on  the  wall.  Dona  Trinidad  was 
sewing  as  usual,  and  dressed  as  simply  as  if 
she  looked  to  her  daughter  to  maintain  the 
state  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas.  Above  a 
black  silk  skirt  she  wore  a  black  shawl,  one 
end  thrown  over  her  shoulder.  About  her  head 
was  a  close  black  silk  turban,  concealing,  with 
the  exception  of  two  soft  gray  locks  on  either 
side  of  her  face,  what  little  hair  she  may  still 
have  possessed.  Her  white  face  was  delicately 


ioo  The  Doomswoman. 

cut :  the  lines  of  time  indicated  spiritual  sweet- 
ness rather  than  strength. 

Chonita  roved  between  the  sala  and  an 
adjoining  room  where  four  Indian  girls  em- 
broidered the  yellow  poppies  on  the  white 
satin.  I  was  reading  one  of  her  books, — the 
' '  Vicar  of  Wakefield. " 

"Wilt  thou  be  glad  to  see  Reinaldo,  my 
Prudencia  ?  "  asked  Don  Guillermo,  as  the  song 
finished. 

"  Ay  !  "  and  the  girl  blushed. 

"Thou  wouldst  make  a  good  wife  for 
Reinaldo,  and  it  is  well  that  he  marry.  It  is 
true  that  he  has  a  gay  spirit  and  loves  com- 
pany, but  you  shall  live  here  in  this  house,  and 
if  he  is  not  a  devoted  husband  he  shall  have 
no  money  to  spend.  It  is  time  he  became  a 
married  man  and  learned  that  life  was  not 
made  for  dancing  and  flirting  ;  then,  too, 
would  his  restless  spirit  get  him  into  fewer 
broils.  I  have  heard  him  speak  twice  of  no 
other  woman,  excepting  Valencia  Menendez, 
and  I  would  not  have  her  for  a  daughter ;  and 
I  think  he  loves  thee. " 

"Sure  !  "  said  Dona  Trinidad. 

"That  is  love,  I  suppose,"  said  Chonita, 
leaning  back  in  her  chair  and  forgetting  the 
poppies.  "With  her  a  placid  contented  hope, 


CA 


The  Doomswoman.  101 

with  him  a  calm  preference  for  a  malleable 
woman.  If  he  left  her  for  another  she  would 
cry  for  a  week,  then  serenely  marry  whom  my 
father  bade  her,  and  forget  Reinaldo  in  the 
donas  of  the  bridegroom.  The  birds  do  almost 
as  well." 

Don  Guillermo  smiled  indulgently.  Pru- 
dencia  did  not  know  whether  to  cry  or  not. 
Doiia  Trinidad,  who  never  thought  of  replying 
to  her  daughter,  said,— 

"  Chonita  mia,  Liseta  and  Tomaso  wish  to 
marry,  and  thy  father  will  give  them  the  little 
house  by  the  creek. " 

"Yes,  mamacita?"  said  Chonita,  absently: 
she  felt  no  interest  in  the  loves  of  the  Indians. 

"We  have  a  new  Father  in  the  Mission," 
continued  her  mother,  remembering  that  she 
had  not  acquainted  her  daughter  with  all  the 
important  events  of  her  absence.  "And  Don 
Rafael  Guzman's  son  was  drafted.  That  was 
a  judgment  for  not  marrying  when  his  father 
bade  him.  For  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
Reinaldo  marry.  I  would  not  have  him  go  to 
the  war  to  be  killed. " 

' '  No, "  said  Don  Guillermo.  "He  must  be  a 
diputado  to  Mexico.  I  would  not  lose  my  only 
son  in  battle.  I  am  ambitious  for  him  ;  and  so 
art  thou,  Chonita,  for  thy  brother  ?  Is  it  not  so  ? " 


io2  The  Doomswoman. 

"Yes.  I  have  it  in  me  to  stab  the  heart  of 
any  man  who  rolls  a  stone  in  his  way. " 

"My  daughter,"  said  Don  Guillermo,  with 
the  accent  of  duty  rather  than  of  reproof, 
"  thou  must  love  without  vengeance.  Sus- 
tain thy  brother,  but  harm  not  his  enemy.  I 
would  not  have  thee  hate  even  an  Estenega, 
although  I  cannot  love  them  myself.  But  we 
will  not  talk  of  the  Estenegas.  Dost  thou  real- 
ize that  our  Reinaldo  will  be  with  us  this  night  ? 
We  must  all  go  to  confession  to-morrow, — thy 
mother  and  myself,  Eustaquia,  Reinaldo,  Pru- 
dencia,  and  thyself." 

Chonita's  face  became  rigid,  "  I  cannot  go 
to  confession,"  she  said.  "It  may  be  months 
before  I  can  :  perhaps  never." 

"What?" 

"  Can  one  go  to  confession  with  a  hating  and 
an  unforgiving  heart  ?  Ay  !  that  I  never  had 
gone  to  Monterey  !  At  least  I  had  the  consola- 
tion of  my  religion  before.  Now  I  fight  the 
darkness  by  myself.  Do  not  ask  me  questions, 
for  I  shall  not  answer  them.  But  taunt  me  no 
more  with  confession. " 

Even  Don  Guillermo  was  dumb.  In  all  the 
twenty-four  years  of  her  life  she  never  had  be- 
trayed violence  of  spirit  before  :  even  her  hatred 
of  the  Estenegas  had  been  a  religion  rather 


The  Doomswoman.  103 

than  a  personal  feeling.  It  was  the  first  glimpse 
of  her  soul  that  she  had  accorded  them,  and 
they  were  aghast.  What — what  had  happened 
to  this  proud,  reserved,  careless  daughter  of  the 
Iturbi  y  Moncadas  ? 

Dona  Trinidad  drew  down  her  mouth.  Pru- 
dencia  began  to  cry.  Then,  for  the  moment, 
Chonita  was  forgotten.  Two  horses  galloped 
into  the  court-yard. 

"Reinaldo!" 

The  door  had  but  an  inside  knob  :  Don  Guil- 
lermo  threw  it  open  as  a  young  man  sprang  up 
the  three  steps  of  the  corridor,  followed  by  a 
little  man  who  carefully  picked  his  way. 

''Yes,  I  am  here,  my  father,  my  mother, 
my  sister,  my  Prudencia  !  Ay,  Eustaquia, 
them  too."  And  the  pride  of  the  house  kissed 
each  in  turn,  his  dark  eyes  wandering  absently 
about  the  room.  He  was  a  dashing  caballero, 
and  as  handsome  as  any  ever  born  in  the  Cali- 
fornias.  The  dust  of  travel  had  been  removed 
— at  a  saloon — from  his  blue  velvet  gold-em- 
broidered serape,  which  he  immediately  flung 
on  the  floor.  His  short  jacket  and  trousers 
were  also  of  dark-blue  velvet,  the  former  dec- 
orated with  buttons  of  silver  filigree,  the  latter 
laced  with  silver  cord  over  spotless  linen.  The 
front  of  his  shirt  was  covered  with  costly  lace. 


104  The  Dooms-woman. 

His  long  botas  were  of  soft  yellow  leather 
stamped  with  designs  in  silver  and  gartered 
with  blue  ribbon.  The  clanking  spurs  were 
of  silver  inlaid  with  gold.  The  sash,  knotted 
gracefully  over  his  hip,  was  of  white  silk. 
His  curled  black  hair  was  tied  with  a  blue  ribbon, 
and  clung,  clustering  and  damp,  about  a  low 
brow.  He  bore  a  strange  resemblance  to 
Chonita,  in  spite  of  the  difference  of  color, 
but  his  eyes  were  merely  large  and  bril- 
liant :  they  had  no  stars  in  their  shallows.  His 
mouth  was  covered  by  a  heavy  silken  mus- 
tache, and  his  profile  was  bold.  At  first  glance 
he  impressed  one  as  a  perfect  type  of  manly 
strength,  aggressively  decided  of  character.  It 
was  only  when  he  cast  aside  the  wide  sombrero 
— which,  when  worn  a  little  back,  most  becom- 
ingly framed  his  face — that  one  saw  the  narrow, 
insignificant  head. 

For  a  time  there  was  no  conversation,  only 
a  series  of  exclamations.  Chonita  alone  was 
calm,  smiling  a  loving  welcome.  In  the  excite- 
ment of  the  first  moments  little  notice  was 
taken  of  the  devoted  bailer,  who  ardently  re- 
garded Chonita. 

Don  Juan  de  la  Borrasca  was  flouting  his 
sixties,  fighting  for  his  youth  as  a  parent  fights 
for  its  young.  His  withered  little  face  wore 


The  Doomswoman.  105 

the  complacent  smile  of  vanity  ;  his  arched 
brows  furnished  him  with  a  supercilious  expres- 
sion which  atoned  for  his  lack  of  inches,  — he  was 
barely  five  feet  two.  His  large  curved  nose 
was  also  a  compensating  gift  from  the  god- 
mother of  dignity,  and  he  carried  himself  so 
erectly  that  he  looked  like  a  toy  general.  His 
small  black  eyes  were  bright  as  glass  beads, 
and  his  hair  was  ribboned  as  bravely  as  Rei- 
naldo's.  He  was  clad  in  silk  attire, — red  silk 
embroidered  with  butterflies.  His  little  hands 
were  laden  with  rings ;  carbuncles  glowed  in  the 
lace  of  his  shirt.  He  was  moderately  wealthy, 
but  a  stanch  retainer  of  the  house  of  Iturbi  y 
Moncada,  the  devoted  slave  of  Chonita. 

She  was  the  first  to  remember  him,  and  held 
out  her  hand  for  him  to  kiss.  "  Thou  hast  the 
gratitude  of  my  heart,  dear  friend,"  she  said,  as 
the  little  dandy  curved  over  it.  "I  thank thee 
a  thousand  times  for  bringing  my  brother  back 
to  me." 

"Ay,  Dona  Chonita,  thanks  be  to  God  and 
Mary  that  I  was  enabled  so  to  do.  Had  my 
mission  proved  unsuccessful  I  should  have 
committed  a  crime  and  gone  to  prison  with  him. 
Never  would  I  have  returned  here.  DuefSo 
adorado,  ever  at  thy  feet. " 

Chonita  smiled  kindly,  but  she  was  listening 


io6  The  Doomswoman. 

to  her  brother,  who  was  now  expatiating  upon 
his  wrongs  to  a  sympathetic  audience. 

"  Holy  heaven  !  "  he  exclaimed,  striding-  up 
and  down  the  room,  "that  an  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada,  the  descendant  of  twenty  generations, 
should  be  put  to  shame,  to  disgrace  and  humil- 
iation, by  being  cast  into  a  common  prison  ! 
That  an  ardent  patriot,  a  loyal  subject  of  Mexico, 
should  be  accused  of  conspiring  against  the 
judgment  of  an  Alvarado  !  Carillo  was  my 
friend,  and  had  his  cause  been  a  just  one  I  had 
gone  with  him  to  the  gates  of  death  or  the  chair 
of  state.  But  could  I,  /  conspire  against  a  wise 
and  great  man  like  Juan  Bautista  Alvarado  ? 
No  !  not  even  if  Carillo  had  asked  me  so  to  do. 
But,  by  the  stars  of  heaven,  he  did  not.  I  had 
been  but  the  guest  of  his  bounty  for  a  month  ; 
and  the  suspicious  rascals  who  spied  upon  us, 
the  poor  brains  who  compose  the  Departmental 
Junta,  took  it  for  granted  that  an  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada  could  not  be  blind  to  Carillo's  plots  and 
plans  and  intrigues,  that,  having  been  the  in- 
timate of  his  house  and  table,  I  must  perforce 
aid  and  abet  whatever  schemes  engrossed  him. 
Ay,  more  often  than  frequently  did  a  dark  sur- 
mise cross  my  mind,  but  I  brushed  it  aside  as 
one  does  the  prompting  of  evil  desires.  I  would 
not  believe  that  a  Carillo  would  plot,  conspire, 


The  Doomswoman.  107 

and  rise  again,  after  the  terrible  lesson  he  had 
received  in  1838.  Alvarado  holds  California  to 
his  heart ;  Castro,  the  Mars  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  hovers  menacingly  on  the  horizon. 
Who,  who,  in  sober  reason,  would  defy  that 
brace  of  frowning  gods  ?  " 

His  eloquence  was  cut  short  by  respiratory 
interference,  but  he  continued  to  stride  from 
one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other,  his  face 
flushed  with  excitement.  Prudencia's  large  eyes 
followed  him,  admiration  paralyzing  her  tongue. 
Dona  Trinidad  smiled  upward  with  the  self- 
approval  of  the  modest  barn-yard  lady  who 
has  raised  a  magnificent  bantam.  Don  Guil- 
lermo  applauded  loudly.  Only  Chonita  turned 
away,  the  truth  smiting  her  for  the  first  time. 

''Words!  words!"  she  thought,  bitterly. 
"He  would  have  said  all  that  in  two  sentences. 
Is  it  true — ay,  trisle  de  mi! — what  he  said  of  my 
brother  ?  I  hate  him,  yet  his  brain  has  cut  mine 
and  wedged  there.  My  head  bows  to  him, 
even  while  all  the  Iturbi  y  Moncada  in  me 
arises  to  curse  him.  But  my  brother !  my 
brother !  he  is  so  much  younger.  And  if  he 
had  had  the  same  advantages — those  years  in 
Mexico  and  America  and  Europe — would  he 
not  know  as  much  as  Diego  Estenega  ?  Oh, 
sure  !  sure  ! 


io8  The  Doomswoman. 

' '  My  son, "  Don  Guillermo  was  saying,  ' '  God 
be  thanked  that  thou  didst  not  merit  thy  im- 
prisonment. I  should  have  beaten  thee  with 
my  cane  and  locked  thee  in  thy  room  for  a 
month  hadst  thou  disgraced  my  name.  But, 
as  it  happily  is,  thou  must  have  compensation 
for  unjust  treatment. — Prudencia,  give  me  thy 
hand." 

The  girl  rose,  trembling  and  blushing,  but 
crossed  the  room  with  stately  step  and  stood 
beside  her  uncle.  Don  Guillermo  took  her 
hand  and  placed  it  in  Reinaldo's.  "Thou  shalt 
have  her,  my  son,"  he  said.  "  I  have  divined 
thy  wishes." 

Reinaldo  kissed  the  small  fingers  fluttering  in 
his,  making  a  great  flourish.  He  was  quite 
ready  to  marry,  and  his  pliant  little  cousin 
suited  him  better  than  any  one  he  knew. 
"  Day-star  of  my  eyes  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "con- 
solation of  my  soul  !  Memories  of  injustice, 
discomfort,  and  sadness  fall  into  the  waters  of 
oblivion  rolling  at  thy  feet.  I  see  neither  past 
nor  future.  The  rose-hued  curtain  of  youth 
and  hope  falls  behind  and  before  us." 

"Yes,  yes,"  assented  Prudencia,  delightedly. 
"  My  Reinaldo  !  my  Reinaldo  !  " 

We  congratulated  them  severally  and  collect- 
ively, and,  when  the  ceremony  was  over,  Rei- 


The  Dooms-woman.  109 

naldo  cried,  with  even  more  enthusiasm  than 
he  had  yet  shown,  "  My  mother,  for  the  love 
of  Mary  give  me  something  to  eat, — tamales, 
salad,  chicken,  dulces.  Don  Juan  and  I  are 
as  empty  as  hides." 

Dona  Trinidad  smiled  with  the  pride  of  the 
California!!  housewife.  "  It  is  ready,  my  son. 
Come  to  the  dining-room,  no  ?  " 

She  led  the  way,  followed  by  the  family,  Rei- 
naldo  and  Prudencia  lingering.  As  the  others 
crossed  the  threshold  he  drew  her  back. 

"  A  lump  of  tallow,  dost  thouhear,  my  Pru- 
dencia ?  "  he  whispered,  hurriedly.  ' '  Put  it 
under  the  green  bench.  I  must  have  it  to- 
night." 

"  Ay  !  Reinaldo " 

"  Do  not  refuse,  my  Prudencia,  if  thou  lovest 
me.  Wilt  thou  do  it?" 

"  Sure,  my  Reinaldo." 


no  The  Doomswoman. 


XIII. 

THE  family  retired  early  in  its  brief  seasons 
of  reclusion,  and  at  ten  o'clock  Casa  Grande  was 
dark  and  quiet.  Reinaldo  opened  his  door  and 
listened  cautiously,  then  stepped  softly  to  the 
green  bench  and  felt  beneath  for  the  lump  of 
tallow.  It  was  there.  He  returned  to  his 
room  and  swung  himself  from  his  window  into 
the  yard,  about  which  were  irregularly  disposed 
the  manufactories  of  the  Indians,  a  high  wall 
protecting  the  small  town.  All  was  quiet  here, 
and  had  been  for  hours.  He  stole  to  the 
wooden  tower  and  mounted  a  ladder,  lifting  it 
from  story  to  story  until  he  reached  the  attic 
under  the  pointed  roof.  Then  he  lit  a  candle, 
and,  removing  a  board  from  the  floor,  peered 
down  into  the  room  whose  door  was  always 
so  securely  locked.  The  stars  shone  through 
the  uncurtained  windows  and  were  no  yellower 
than  the  gold  coins  heaped  on  the  large  table 
and  overflowing  the  baskets.  Reinaldo  took 
a  long  pole  from  a  corner  and  applied  to  one 
end  a  piece  of  the  soft  tallow.  He  lowered  the 


The  Doomswoman.  1 1 1 

pole  and  pressed  it  firmly  into  the  pile  of  gold 
on  the  table.  The  pole  was  withdrawn,  and 
this  ingenious  fisherman  removed  a  large  gold 
fish  from  the  bait.  He  fished  patiently  for  an 
hour,  then  filled  a  bag  he  had  brought  for  the 
purpose,  and  returned  as  he  had  come.  Not  to 
his  bed,  however.  Once  more  he  opened  his 
door  and  stole  forth,  this  time  to  the  town,  to 
hold  high  revel  around  the  gaming-table,  where 
he  was  welcomed  hilariously  by  his  boon  com- 
panions. 

A  wild  fandango  in  a  neighboring  booth  pro- 
vided relaxation  for  the  gamblers.  In  an  hour 
or  two  Reinaldo  found  his  way  to  this  well- 
known  haven.  Black-eyed  dancing-girls  in 
short  skirts  of  tawdry  satin  trimmed  with  cot- 
ton lace,  mock  jewels  on  their  bare  necks  and 
in  their  coarse  black  hair,  flew  about  the  room 
and  screamed  with  delight  as  Reinaldo  flung 
gold  pieces  among  them.  The  excitement  con- 
tinued in  all  its  variations  until  morning.  Men 
bet  and  lost  all  the  gold  they  had  brought  with 
them,  then  sold  horse,  serape,  and  sombrero  to 
the  men  who  neither  drank  nor  gambled,  but 
came  prepared  for  close  and  profitable  bargains. 
Reinaldo  lost  his  purloins,  won  them  again, 
stood  upon  the  table  and  spoke  with  torrential 
eloquence  of  his  wrongs  and  virtues,  kissed  all 


ii2  The  Doomswoman. 

the  girls,  and  when  by  easy  and  rapid  stages 
he  had  succeeded  in  converting  himself  into  a 
tank  of  aguardiente,  he  was  carried  home  and 
put  to  bed  by  such  of  his  companions  as  were 
sober  enough  to  make  no  noise. 


The  Doomswoman.  113 


XIV. 

CHONITA,  clad  in  a  black  gown,  walked  slowly 
up  and  down  the  corridor  of  Casa  Grande. 
The  rain  should  have  dripped  from  the  eaves, 
beaten  with  heavy  monotony  upon  the  hard 
clay  of  the  court-yard,  to  accompany  her  mood, 
but  it  did  not.  The  sky  was  blue  without  fleck 
of  cloud,  the  sun  like  the  open  mouth  of  a  fur- 
nace of  boiling  gold,  the  air  as  warm  and  sweet 
and  drowsy  as  if  it  never  had  come  in  shock 
with  human  care.  Prudencia  sat  on  the  green 
bench,  drawing  threads  in  a  fine  linen  smock, 
her  small  face  rosy  with  contentment. 

"Why  dost  thou  wear  that  black  gown  this 
beautiful  morning?"  she  demanded,  suddenly. 
"  And  why  dost  thou  walk  when  thou  canst  sit 
down  ?  " 

"I  had  a  dream  last  night.  Dost  thou  be- 
lieve in  dreams  ?  "  She  had  as  much  regard 
for  her  cousin's  opinion  as  for  the  twittering  of 
a  bird,  but  she  felt  the  necessity  of  speech  at 
times,  and  at  least  this  child  never  remembered 
what  she  said. 

"Sure,  my  Chonita.  Did  not  I  dream  that 
8 


ii4  The  Doomswoman. 

the  good  captain  would  bring  pink  silk  stock- 
ings ?  and  are  they  not  my  own  this  minute  ?  " 
And  she  thrust  a  diminutive  foot  from  beneath 
the  hem  of  her  gown,  regarding  it  with  admi- 
ration. "And  did  not  I  dream  that  Tomaso 
and  -Liseta  would  marry  ?  What  was  thy 
dream,  my  Chonita  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know  what  the  first  part  was; 
something  very  sad.  All  I  remember  is  the 
roar  of  the  ocean  and  another  roar  like  the  wind 
through  high  trees.  Then  a  moment  that  shook 
and  frightened  me,  but  sweeter  than  anything 
I  know  of,  so  I  cannot  define  it.  Then. a  swift 
awful  tragedy — I  cannot  recall  the  details  of 
that,  either.  The  whole  dream  was  like  a 
black  mass  of  clouds,  cut  now  and  again  by  a 
scythe  of  lightning.  But  then,  like  a  vision 
within  a  dream,  I  seemed  to  stand  there  and 
see  myself,  clad  in  a  black  gown,  walking  up 
and  down  this  corridor,  or  one  like  it,  up  and 
down,  up  and  down,  never  resting,  never  dar- 
ing to  rest,  lest  I  hear  the  ceaseless  clatter  of  a 
lonely  fugitive's  horse.  When  I  awoke  I  was 
as  cold  as  if  I  had  received  the  first  shock  of 
the  surf.  I  cannot  say  why  I  put  on  this  black 
gown  to-day.  I  make  no  haste  to  feel  as  I  did 
when  I  wore  it  in  that  dream, — the  desolation, 
—the  endlessness;  but  I  did." 


77ie  Doomswoman.  115 

"That  was  a  strange  dream,  my  Chonita," 
said  Prudencia,  threading  her  needle.  "Thou 
must  have  eaten  too  many  dulces  for  supper  : 
didst  thou  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Chonita,  shortly,  "  I  did  not." 

She  continued  her  aimless  walk,  wondering 
at  her  depression  of  spirits.  All  her  life  she  had 
felt  a  certain  mental  loneliness,  but  a  healthy 
body  rarely  harbors  an  invalid  soul,  and  she 
had  only  to  spring  on  a  horse  and  gallop  over 
the  hills  to  feel  as  happy  as  a  young  animal. 
Moreover,  the  world — all  the  world  she  knew 
— was  at  her  feet ;  nor  had  she  ever  known  the 
novelty  of  an  ungratified  wish.  Once  in  a 
while  her  father  arose  in  an  obdurate  mood, 
but  she  had  only  to  coax,  or  threaten  tears, — 
never  had  she  been  seen  to  shed  one, — or  stamp 
her  foot,  to  bring  that  doting  parent  to  terms. 
It  is  true  that  she  had  had  her  morbid  moments, 
an  abrupt  impatient  desire  for  something  that 
was  not  all  light  and  pleasure  and  gold  and  ad- 
ulation ;  but,  being  a  girl  of  will  and  sense, 
she  had  turned  resolutely  from  the  troublous 
demands  of  her  deeper  soul,  regarding  them  as 
coals  fallen  from  a  mind  that  burned  too  hotly 
at  times. 

This  morning,  however,  she  let  the  blue 
waters  rise,  not  so  much  because  they  were 


u6  The  Doomswoman. 

stronger  than  her  will,  as  because  she  wished 
to  understand  what  was  the  matter  with  her. 
She  was  filled  with  a  dull  dislike  of  every  one 
she  had  ever  known,  of  every  condition  which 
had  surrounded  her  from  birth.  She  felt  a  deep 
disgust  of  placid  contentment,  of  the  mere  en- 
joyment of  sunshine  and  air.  She  recalled 
drearily  the  clock-like  revolutions  of  the  year 
which  brought  bull-fights,  races,  rodeos,  church 
celebrations ;  her  mother's  anecdotes  of  the 
Indians  ;  her  father's  manifold  interests,  ever 
the  theme  of  his  tongue ;  Reinaldo's  grandilo- 
quent accounts  of  his  exploits  and  intentions  ; 
Prudencia's  infinite  nothings.  She  hated  the 
balls  of  which  she  was  La  Favorita,  the  ever- 
lasting serenades,  the  whole  life  of  pleasure 
which  made  that  period  of  California  the  most 
perfected  Arcadia  the  modern  world  has  known. 
Some  time  during  the  past  few  weeks  the  girl 
had  crossed  her  hands  over  her  breast  and  lain 
down  in  her  eternal  tomb.  The  woman  had 
arisen  and  come  forth,  blinded  as  yet  by  the 
light,  her  hands  thrust  out  gropingly. 

"It  is  that  man,''  she  told  herself,  with  angry 
frankness.  "I  had  not  talked  with  him  ten 
minutes  before  I  felt  as  I  do  when  the  scene 
changes  suddenly  in  one  of  Shakespeare's 
plays,  — as  if  I  had  been  flung  like  a  meteor  into 


The  Doomswoman.  117 

a  new  world.  I  felt  the  necessity  for  mental 
alertness  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  ;  always, 
before,  I  had  striven  to  conceal  what  I  knew. 
The  natural  consequences,  of  course,  were  first 
the  desire  to  feel  that  stimulation  again  and 
again,  then  to  realize  the  littleness  of  every- 
thing but  mental  companionship.  I  have  read 
^  that  people  who  begin  with  hate  sometimes 
end  with  love  ;}  and  if  I  were  a  book  woman  I 
suppose  I  should  in  time  love  this  man  whom 
I  now  so  hate,  even  while  I  admire.  But  I  am 
no  lump  of  wax  in  the  hands  of  a  writer  of 
dreams.  I  am  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  and 
he  is  Diego  Estenega.  I  could  no  more  love 
him  than  could  the  equator  kiss  the  poles. 
Only,  much  as  I  hate  him,  I  wish  I  could  see 
him  again.  He  knows  so  much  more  than 
any  one  else.  I  should  like  to  talk  to  him,  to 
ask  him  many  things.  He  has  sworn  to  marry 
me."  Her  lip  curled  scornfully,  but  a  sudden 
glow  rushed  over  her.  "  Had  he  not  been  an 
Estenega, — yes,  I  could  have  loved  him, — that 
calm,  clear-sighted  love  that  is  born  of  regard ; 
not  a  whirlwind  and  a  collapse,  like  most  love. 
I  should  like  to  sit  with  my  hands  in  my  lap 
and  hear  him  talk  forever.  And  we  cannot 
even  be  friends.  It  is  a  pity." 

The  girl's  mind  was    like  a  splendid  castle 


n8  The  Doomswoir.an. 

only  one  wing  of  which  had  ever  been  illu- 
minated. By  the  light  of  the  books  she  had  read, 
and  of  acute  observation  in  a  little  sphere,  she 
strove  to  penetrate  the  thick  walls  and  carry  the 
torch  into  broader  halls  and  lofty  towers.  But 
superstition,  prejudice,  bitter  pride,  inexperi- 
ence of  life,  conjoined  their  shoulders  and 
barred  the  way.  As  Diego  Estenega  had  dis- 
cerned, under  the  thick  Old-World  shell  of  in- 
herited impressions  was  a  plastic  being  of  all 
womanly  possibilities.  But  so  little  did  she 
know  of  herself,  so  futile  was  her  struggle  in 
the  dark  with  only  sudden  flashes  to  blind  her 
and  distort  all  she  saw,  that  with  nothing  to 
shape  that  moulding  kernel  it  would  shrink  and 
wither,  and  in  a  few  years  she  would  be  but  a 
polished  shell,  perfect  of  proportion,  hollow  at 
the  core. 

But  if  strong  intellectual  juices  sank  into  that 
sweet,  pliant  kernel,  developing  it  into  the  per- 
fected form  of  woman,  establishing  the  current  be- 
tween the  brain  and  the  passions,  finishing  the 
work,  or  leaving  it  half  completed,  as  Cir- 
cumstance vouchsafed  ? — what  then  ? 

"  Ay,  Sefior  !  "  exclaimed  Prudencia,  as  two 
people,  mounted  on  horses  glistening  with 
silver,  galloped  into  the  court-yard.  "Val- 
encia and  Adan  ! " 


The  Doomswoman.  1 1 9 

I  came  out  of  the  sala  at  that  moment  and 
watched  them  alight :  Adan,  that  faithful,  dog- 
like  adorer,  of  whose  kind  every  beautiful  wo- 
man has  a  half-dozen  or  more,  Valencia  the 
bitter- hearted  rival  of  Chonita.  She  was  a  tall, 
dazzling  creature,  with  flaming  black  eyes  large 
and  heavily  lashed,  and  a  figure  so  lithe  that 
she  seemed  to  sweep  downward  from  her  horse 
rather  than  spring  to  the  ground.  She  had  the 
dark  rich  skin  of  Mexico — another  source  of 
envy  and  hatred,  for  the  Iturbi  y  Moncadas,  like 
most  of  the  aristocracy  of  the  country,  were  of 
pure  Castilian  blood  and  as  white  as  porcelain 
in  consequence — and  a  red  full  mouth. 

"Welcome,  my  Chonita  !  "  she  cried.  "  Val- 
game  Dios  !  but  I  am  glad  to  see  thee  back  !  " 
She  kissed  Chonita  effusively.  "  Ay,  my  poor 
brother!"  she  whispered,  hurriedly.  "Tell 
him  that  thou  art  glad  to  see  him."  And  then 
she  welcomed  me  with  words  that  fell  as  softly 
as  rose-leaves  in  a  zephyr,  and  patted  Pru- 
dencia's  head. 

Chonita,  with  a  faint  flush  on  hef  cheek,  gave 
Adan  her  hand  to  kiss.  She  had  given  this 
faithful  suitor  little  encouragement,  but  his  un- 
swerving and  honest  devotion  had  wrung  from 
her  a  sort  of  careless  affection;  and  she  told  me 
that  first  night  in  Monterey  that  if  she  ever 


I2O  The  Doomswoman. 

made  up  her  mind  to  marry  she  thought  she 
would  select  Adan  :  he  was  more  tolerable 
than  any  one  she  knew.  It  is  doubtful  if  he 
had  crossed  her  mind  since  ;  and  now,  with  all 
a  woman's  unreason,  she  conceived  a  sudden 
and  violent  dislike  for  him  because  she  had 
treated  him  too  kindly  in  her  thoughts.  I  liked 
Adan  Menendez  ;  there  was  something  manly 
and  sure  about  him, — the  latter  a  restful  if 
not  a  fascinating  quality.  And  I  liked  his  ap- 
pearance. His  clear  brown  eyes  had  a  kind 
direct  regard.  His  chin  was  round,  and  his  pro- 
file a  little  thick  ;  but  the  gray  hair  brushed  up 
and  away  from  his  low  forehead  gave  dignity 
to  his  face.  His  figure  was  pervaded  with  the 
indolence  of  the  Californian. 

"  At  your  feet,  senorita  mia,"  he  murmured, 
his  voice  trembling. 

"It  gives  me  pleasure  to  see  thee  again, 
Adan.  Hast  thou  been  well  and  happy  since 
I  left  ? " 

It  was  a  careless  question,  and  he  looked  at 
her  reproachfully. 

"  I  have  been  well,  Chonita,"  he  said. 

At  this  moment  our  attention  was  startled  by 
a  sharp  exclamation  from  Valencia.  Prudencia 
had  announced  her  engagement.  Valencia  had 
refused  many  suitors,  but  she  had  intended  to 


The  Doomswoman.  121 

marry  Reinaldo  Iturbi  y  Moncada.  Not  that 
she  loved  him  :  he  was  the  most  brilliant 
match  in  three  hundred  leagues.  Within  the 
last  year  he  had  bent  the  knee  to  the  famous 
coquette  ;  but  she  had  lost  her  temper  one  day, 
— or,  rather,  it  had  found  her, — and  after  a 
violent  quarrel  he  had  galloped  away,  and  gone 
almost  immediately  to  Los  Angeles,  there  to 
remain  until  Don  Juan  went  after  him  with  a 
bushel  of  gold.  She  controlled  herself  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  swayed  her  graceful  body  over  Pru- 
dencia,  kissing  her  lightly  on  the  cheek. 

"Thou  baby,  to  marry!"  she  said,  softly. 
"Thou  didst  take  away  my  breath.  Thou 
dost  look  no  more  than  fourteen  years.  I  had 
forgotten  the  grand  merienda  of  thy  eighteenth 
birthday." 

Prudencia's  little  bosom  swelled  with  pride 
at  the  discomfiture  of  the  haughty  beauty  who 
had  rarely  remembered  to  notice  her.  Pru- 
dencia  was  not  poor ;  she  owned  a  goodly 
rancho ;  but  it  was  an  hacienda  to  the  state  of 
a  Menendez. 

"Thou  wilt  be  one  of  my  bridesmaids,  no, 
Dofia  Valencia  ?"  she  asked. 

"  That  will  be  the  proud  day  of  my  life," 
said  Valencia,  graciously. 

"We  have  a  ball  to-night,"    said  Chonita. 


122  The  Doomswoman. 

1 '  Thou  wouldst  have  had  word  to-day.  Thou 
wilt  stay  now,  no?  and  not  ride  those  five 
leagues  twice  again  ?  I  will  send  for  thy 
gown." 

"  Truly,  I  will  stay,  my  Chonita.  And  thou 
wilt  tell  me  all  about  thy  visit  to  Monterey, 
no  ?  " 

"All?     Ay!  sure!  " 

Adan  kissed  both  Prudencia's  little  hands  in 
earnest  congratulation.  As  he  did  so,  the  door 
of  Reinaldo's  room  opened,  and  the  heir  of  the 
Iturbi  y  Moncadas  stepped  forth,  gorgeous  in 
black  silk  embroidered  with  gold.  He  had 
slept  off  the  effects  of  the  night's  debauch,  and 
cold  water  had  restored  his  freshness.  H  e  kissed 
Prudencia's  hand,  his  own  to  us,  then  bent 
over  Valencia's  with  exaggerated  homage. 

"  At  thy  feet,  O  loveliest  of  California's  daugh- 
ters. In  the  immensity  of  thought,  going  to 
and  coming  from  Los  Angeles,  my  imagination 
has  spread  its  wings  like  an  eagle.  Thou  hast 
been  a  beautiful  day-dream,  posing  or  reclining, 
dancing,  or  swaying  with  grace  superlative  on 
thy  restive  steed.  I  have  not  greeted  my  good 
friend  Adan.  I  can  but  look  and  look  and  keep 
on  looking  at  his  incomparable  sister,  the  rose 
of  roses,  the  queen  of  queens." 

"  Thy  tongue    carols  as  easily  as  a  lark's," 


The  Doomswoman.  123 

said  Valencia,  with  but  half-concealed  bitter- 
ness. "  Thou  couldst  sing  all  day, — and  the 
next  forget." 

"I  forget  nothing,  beautiful  senorita, — 
neither  the  fair  days  of  spring  nor  the  ugly 
storms  of  winter.  And  I  love  the  sunshine  and 
flee  from  the  tempest.  Adan,  brother  of  my 

heart,  welcome  as  ever  to  Casa  Grande 

Ay  !  here  is  my  father.  He  looks  like  Sancho 
Panza." 

Don  Guillermo's  sturdy  little  mustang  bore 
him  into  the  court-yard,  shaking  his  stout  master 
not  a  little.  The  old  gentleman's  black  silk 
handkerchief  had  fallen  to  his  shoulders  : 
his  face  was  red,  but  covered  with  a  broad 
smile. 

"  I  have  letters  from  Monterey,"  he  said,  as 
Rein al do  and  Adan  ran  down  the  steps  to  help 
him  alight.  "Alvarado  goes  by  sc'a  to  Los 
Angeles  this  month,  but  returns  by  land  in  the 
next,  and  will  honor  us  with  a  visit  of  a  week. 
I  shall  write  to  him  to  arrive  in  time  for  the  wed- 
ding. Several  members  of  the  Junta  come 

with  him, and  of  their  number  is  Diego  Es- 

tenega. ' ' 

"Who?"  cried  Reinaldo.  "An  Estenega? 
Thou  wilt  not  ask  him  to  cross  the  threshold 
of  Casa  Grande  ?  " 


124  The  Doomswoman. 

tl  I  always  liked  Diego,"  said  the  old  man, 
somewhat  confusedly.  "  And  he  is  the  friend 
of  Alvarado.  How  can  I  avoid  to  ask  him, 
when  he  is  of  the  party  ?  " 

"  Let  him  come,"  cried  Reinaldo.  "  God  of 
my  life  ! — I  am  glad  that  he  comes,  this  lord  of 
redwood  forests  and  fog-bound  cliffs.  It  is  well 
that  he  see  the  splendor  of  the  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cadas, — our  pageants  and  our  gay  diversions, 
our  cavalcades  of  beauty  and  elegance  under 
a  canopy  of  smiling  blue.  Glad  I  am  that  he 
comes.  Once  for  all  shall  he  learn  that, 
although  his  accursed  family  has  beaten  ours 
in  war  and  politics,  he  can  never  hope  to  rival 
our  pomp  and  state." 

''Ah!  "said  Valencia  to  Chonita,  "  I  have 
heard  of  this  Diego  Estenega.  I  too  am  glad 
that  he  comes.  I  have  the  advantage  of  thee 
this  time,  my  friend.  Thou  and  he  must  hate 
each  other,  and  for  once  I  am  without  a  rival. 
He  shall  be  my  slave."  And  she  tossed  her 
spirited  head. 

''  He  shall  not !  "  cried  Chonita,  then  checked 
herself  abruptly,  the  blood  rushing  to  her  hair. 
"I  hate  him  so, "  she  continued  hurriedly  to 
the  astonished  Valencia,  "that  I  would  see  no 
woman  show  him  favor.  Thou  wilt  not  like 
him,  Valencia.  He  is  not  handsome  at  all, — • 


The  Doomswoman.  125 

no  color  in  his  skin,  not  even  white,  and  eyes 
in  the  back  of  his  head.  No  mustache,  no 
curls,  and  a  mouth  that  looks, — oh,  that  mouth, 
so  grim,  so  hard  ! — no,  it  is  not  to  be  described. 
No  one  could ;  it  makes  you  hate  him.  And 
he  has  no  respect  for  women  ;  he-thinks  they 
were  made  to  please  the  eye,  no  more.  I  do 
not  think  he  would  look  ten  seconds  at  an  ugly 
woman.  Thou  wilt  not  like  him,  Valencia, 
sure. " 

"Ay,  but  I  think  I  shall.  What  thou  hast 
said  makes  me  wish  to  see  him  the  more. 
God  of  my  life  !  but  he  must  be  different  from 
the  men  of  the  South.  And  I  shall  like  that." 

" Perhaps,"  said  Chonita,  coldly.  "At 
least  he  will  not  break  thy  heart,  for  no  woman 
could  love  him.  But  come  and  take  thy  siesta, 
no?  and  refresh  thyself  for  the  dance.  I  will 
send  thee  a  cup  of  chocolate."  And,  bending 
her  head  to  Adan,  she  swept  down  the  corridor, 
followed  by  Valencia. 


126  •   The  Doomswoman. 


XV. 


THOSE  were  two  busy  months  before  Pru- 
dencia's  wedding.  Twenty  girls,  sharply 
watched  and  directed  by  Dona  Trinidad  and 
the  sometime  mistress  of  Casa  Grande,  worked 
upon  the  marriage  wardrobe.  Prudencia  would 
have  no  use  for  more  house-linen  ;  but  enough 
fine  linen  was  made  into  underclothes  to  last 
her  a  lifetime.  Five  keen-eyed  girls  did  nothing 
but  draw  the  threads  for  deshalados,  and  so  ela- 
borate was  the  open-work  that  the  wonder  was 
the  bride  did  not  have  bands  and  stripes  of 
rheumatism.  Others  fashioned  crepes  and 
flowered  silks  and  heavy  satins  into  gowns 
with  long  pointed  waists  and  full  flowing  skirts, 
some  with  sleeves  of  lace  and  high  to  the  base 
of  the  throat,  others  cut  to  display  the  plump 
whiteness  of  the  owner.  Twelve  rebosos  were 
made  for  her  ;  Dona  Trinidad  gave  her  one  of 
her  finest  mantillas  ;  Chonita,  the  white  satin 
embroidered  with  poppies,  for  which  she  had 
conceived  a  capricious  dislike.  She  also  in- 
vited Prudencia  to  take  what  she  pleased  from 


The  Doomswoman. 


127 


her  wardrobe  ;  and  Prudencia,  who  was  noth- 
ing if  not  practical,  helped  herself  to  three 
gowns  which  had  been  made  for  Chonita  at 
great  expense  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  four  shawls 
of  Chinese  crepe,  a  roll  of  pineapple  silk,  and  an 
American  hat. 

The  house  until  within  two  weeks  of  the  wed- 
ding was  full  of  visitors, — neighbors  whose  ran- 
chos  lay  ten  leagues  away  or  nearer,  and  the 
people  of  the  town  ;  all  of  them  come  to  offer 
congratulations,  chatter  on  the  corridor  by  day 
and  dance  in  the  sala  by  night.  The  court 
was  never  free  of  prancing  horses  pawing  the 
ground  for  eighteen  hours  at  a  time  under  their 
heavy  saddles.  Dona  Trinidad's  cooking-girls 
were  as  thick  in  the  kitchen  as  ants  on  an  ant- 
hill, for  the  good  things  of  Casa  Grande  were 
as  famous  as  its  hospitality,  and  not  the  least 
of  the  attractions  to  the  merry  visitors.  When 
we  did  not  dance  at  home  we  danced  at  the 
neighbors'  or  at  the  Presidio.  During  the  last 
two  weeks,  however,  every  one  went  home  to 
rest  and  prepare  for  the  festivities  to  succeed 
the  wedding ;  and  the  old  house  was  as  quiet 
as  a  canon  in  the  mountains. 

Chonita  took  a  lively  concern  in  the  prep- 
arations at  first,  but  her  interest  soon  evapo- 
rated, and  she  spent  more  and  more  time  in 


128  77ie  Doomswoman. 

the  little  library  adjoining  her  bedroom.  She  did 
less  reading  than  thinking,  however.  Once 
she  came  to  me  and  tried  for  fifteen  minutes  to 
draw  from  me  something  in  Estenega's  dis- 
praise ;  and  when  I  finally  admitted  that  he  had 
a  fault  or  two  I  thought  she  would  scalp  me. 
Still,  at  this  time  she  was  hardly  more  than  fas- 
cinated, interested,  tantalized  by  a  mind  she 
could  appreciate  but  not  understand.  If  they 
had  never  met  again  he  would  gradually  have 
moved  backward  to  the  horizon  of  her  memory, 
growing  dim  and  more  dim,  hovered  in  a 
cloud-bank  for  a  while,  then  disappeared  into 
that  limbo  which  must  exist  somewhere  for 
discarded  impressions,  and  all  would  have  been 
well. 


The  Doomswoman.  129 


XVI. 

THE  evening  before  the  wedding  Prudencia 
covered  her  demure  self  with  black  gown  and 
reboso,  and,  accompanied  by  Chonita,  went 
up  to  the  Mission  to  make  her  last  maiden  con- 
fession. Chonita  did  not  go  with  her  into  the 
church,  but  paced  up  and  down  the  long  corri- 
dor of  the  wing,  gazing  absently  upon  the  deep 
wild  valley  and  peaceful  ocean,  seeing  little 
beyond  the  images  in  her  own  mind. 

That  morning  Alvarado  and  several  mem- 
bers of  the  Junta  had  arrived,  but  not  Estenega. 
He  had  come  as  far  as  the  Rancho  Temblor, 
Alvarado  explained,  and  there,  meeting  some 
old  friends,  had  decided  to  remain  over  night 
and  accompany  them  the  next  day  to  the  cere- 
mony. As  Chonita  had  stood  on  the  corridor 
and  watched  the  approach  of  the  Governor's 
cavalcade  her  heart  had  beaten  violently,  and 
she  had  angrily  acknowledged  that  her  nervous- 
ness was  due  to  the  fact  that  she  was  about  to 
meet  Diego  Estenega  again.  When  she  dis- 
covered that  he  was  not  of  the  party,  she 
9 


130  The  Doomswoman. 

turned  to  me  with  pique,  resentment,  and  dis- 
appointment in  her  face. 

"  Even  if  I  cannot  ever  like  him,"  she  said, 
"  at  least  I  might  have  the  pleasure  of  hearing 
him  talk.  There  is  no  harm  in  that,  even  if  he 
is  an  Estenega,  a  renegade,  and  the  enemy  of 
my  brother.  I  can  hate  him  with  my  heart  and 
like  him  with  my  mind.  And  he  must  have 
cared  little  to  see  us  again,  that  he  could  linger 
for  another  day. " 

"I  am  mad  to  see  Don  Diego  Estenega/' 
said  Valencia,  her  red  lips  pouting.  "  Why 
did  he,  of  all  others,  tarry  ? " 

"He  is  fickle  and  perverse,"  I  said,  — "  the 
most  uncertain  man  I  know." 

"  Perhaps  he  thought  to  make  us  wish  to  see 
him  the  more,"  suggested  Valencia. 

"No,"  I  said:  "he  has  no  ridiculous  van- 
ities." 

Chonita  wandered  back  and  forth  behind  the 
arches,  waiting  for  Prudencia's  long  confession 
of  sinless  errors  to  conclude. 

"What  has  a  baby  like  that  to  confess?" 
she  thought,  impatiently.  "She  could  not  sin 
if  she  tried.  She  knows  nothing  of  the  dark 
storms  of  rage  and  hatred  and  revenge  which 
can  gather  in  the  breasts  of  stronger  and 
weaker  beings.  I  never  knew,  either,  until 


The  Doomswoman.  131 

lately  ;  but  the  storm  is  so  black  I  dare  not 
face  it  and  carry  it  to  the  priest.  I  am  a  sort 
of  human  chaos,  and  I  wish  I  were  dead.  I 
thought  to  forget  him,  and  I  see  him  as  plainly 
as  on  that  morning  when  he  told  me  that  it  was 
he  who  would  send  my  brother  to  prison " 

She  stopped  short  with  a  little  cry.  Diego 
Estenega  stood  before  the  Mission  in  the  broad 
swath  of  moonlight.  She  had  heard  a  horse 
gallop  up  the  valley,  but  had  paid  no  attention 
to  the  familiar  sound.  Estenega  had  appeared 
as  suddenly  as  if  he  had  arisen  from  the 
earth. 

''It  is  I,  senorita."  He  ascended  the  Mis- 
sion steps.  "Do  not  fear.  May  I  kiss  your 
hand  ? " 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  but  withdrew  it 
hurriedly.  Of  the  tremendous  mystery  of 
sex  she  knew  almost  nothing.  Girls  were 
brought  up  in  such  ignorance  in  those  days 
that  many  a  bride  ran  home  to  her  mother  on 
her  wedding  night  ;  and  books  teach  Innocence 
little.  {  But  she  was  fully  conscious  that  there 
was  something  in  the  touch  of  Estenega's  lips 
and  hand  that  startled  while  it  thrilled  and  en- 
thralled.) 

"  I  thought  you  stayed  with  the  Ortegas  to- 
night," she  said.  Oh,  blessed  conventions  1 


OF   T 

UNIVERSITY 


132  The  Doomswoman. 

"  I  did, — fora  few  hours.  Then  I  wanted 
to  see  you,  and  I  left  them  and  came  on.  At 
Casa  Grande  I  found  no  one  but  Eustaquia ; 
every  one  else  had  gone  to  the  gardens ;  and 
she  told  me  that  you  were  here." 

Chonita's  heart  was  beating  as  fast  as  it  had 
beaten  that  morning;  even  her  hands  shook 
a  little.  A  glad  wave  of  warmth  rushed  over 
her.  She  turned  to  him  impetuously.  ''Tell 
me?  "she  exclaimed.  "Why  do  I  feel  like 
this  for  you  ?  I  hate  you  :  you  know  that. 
There  are  many  reasons, — five  ;  you  counted 
them.  And  yet  I  feel  excited,  almost  glad,  at 
your  coming.  This  morning  I  was  disap- 
pointed when  you  did  not.  Tell  me, — you 
know  everything,  and  I  so  little, — why  is  it  ?  " 

Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  her  eyes  terrified 
and  appealing.  She  looked  very  lovely  and 
natural.  Probably  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
Estenega  resisted  a  temptation.  He  passion- 
ately wished  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  tell 
her  the  truth.  But  he  was  too  clever  a  man ; 
there  was  too  much  at  stake;  if  he  frightened 
her  now  he  might  never  even  see  her  again. 
Moreover,  she  appealed  to  his  chivalry.  And 
it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  so  sweet  a 
heart  would  be  warped  in  its  waking  if  passion 
bewildered  and  controlled  her  first. 


The  Doomswoman.  133 

"  Dona  Chonita,"  he  said,  "  like  all  women, 
— all  beautiful  and  spoiled  women, — you  de- 
mand variety.  I  happen  to  be  made  of  harder 
stuff  than  your  caballeros,  and  you  have  not 
seen  me  for  two  months  ;  that  is  all." 

"  And  if  I  saw  you  every  day  for  two  months 
would  I  no  longer  care  whether  you  came  or 
went  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly. 

"Is  it  sweet  or  terrible  to  feel  this  way  ?  " 
thought  the  girl.  "Would  I  regret  if  he  no 
longer  made  me  tremble,  or  would  I  go  on  my 
knees  and  thank  the  Blessed  Virgin  ?  "  Aloud 
she  said,  "  It  was  strange  for  me  to  ask  you 
such  questions  ;  but  it  is  as  if  you  had  some- 
thing in  your  mind  separate  from  yourself,  and 
that  it  would  tell  me,  and  you  could  not  pre- 
vent its  being  truthful.  I  do  not  believe  in 
you ;  you  look  as  if  nothing  were  worth  the 
while  to  lie  or  tell  the  truth  about ;  but  your 
mind  is  quite  different.  It  seems  to  me  that  it 
knows  all  things,  that  it  is  as  cold  and  clear  as 
ice." 

"What  a  whimsical  creature  you  are  !  My 
mind,  like  myself, — I  feel  as  if  I  were  twins,— 
is  at  your  service.  Forget  that  I  am  Diego 
Estenega.  Regard  me  as  a  sort  of  archive  of 
impressions  which  may  amuse  or  serve  you  as 


134  The  Doomswoman. 

the  poorest  of  your  books  do.  That  they  hap- 
pen to  be  catalogued  under  the  general  title  of 
Diego  Estenega  is  a  mere  detail  ;  an  accident, 
for  that  matter  ;  they  might  be  pigeon-holed  in 
the  skull  of  a  Bandini  or  a  Pico.  I  happen  to 
be  the  magnet,  that  is  all." 

' 'If  I  could  forget  that  you  were  an  Este- 
nega,— just  for  a  week,  while  you  are  here," 
she  said,  wistfully. 

"  You  are  a  woman  of  will  and  imagination, 
— also  of  variety.  Make  an  experiment  ;  it 
will  interest  you.  Of  course  there  will  be 
times  when  you  will  be  bitterly  conscious 
that  I  am  the  enemy  of  your  house  ;  it  would 
be  idle  to  expect  otherwise ;  but  when  we 
happen  to  be  apart  from  disturbing  influences, 
let  us  agree  to  forget  that  we  are  anything  but 
two  human  beings,  deeply  congenial.  As  for 
what  I  said  in  the  garden  at  Monterey,  the  last 
time  we  spoke  together, — I  shall  not  bother 
you." 

"You  no  longer  care  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"I  did  not  say  that.  I  said  I  should  not 
bother  you, — recognizing  your  hostility  and 
your  reasons.  Be  faithful  to  your  traditions, 
my  beautiful  doomswoman.  No  man  is  worth 
the  sacrifice  of  those  dear  old  comrades. 
What  presumption  for  a  man  to  require  you 


V£ 


The  Doomswoman.  135 

to  abandon  the  cause  of  your  house,  give  up 
your  brother,  sacrifice  one  or  more  of  your 
religious  principles ;  one,  too,  who  would 
open  his  doors  to  the  Americans  you  hate  ! 
No  man  is  worth  such  a  sacrifice  as  that." 

"  No,"  she  said,  "no  man."  But  she  said  it 
without  enthusiasm. 

"  A  man  is  but  one  ;  traditions  are  fivefold, 
and  multiplied  by  duty.  Poor  grain  of  sand — 
what  can  he  give,  comparable  to  the  cold 
serene  happiness  of  fidelity  to  self?  Love  is 
sweet, — horribly  sweet, — but  so  common  a 
madness  can  give  but  a  tithe  of  the  satisfac- 
tion of  duty  to  pure  and  lofty  ideals. " 

"  I  do  not  believe  that."  The  woman  in  her 
arose  in  resentment.  "A  life  of  duty  must  be 
empty,  cold,  and  wrong.  It  was  not  that  we 
were  made  for." 

"Let  us  talk  little  of  love,  senorita  :  it  is  a 
dangerous  subject." 

"But  it  interests  me,  and  I  should  like  to 
understand  it." 

"  I  will  explain  the  subject  to  you  fully,  some 
day.  I  have  a  fancy  to  do  that  on  my  own 
territory, — up  in  the  redwoods " 

"  Here  is  Prudencia." 

A  small  black  figure  swept  down  the  steps 
of  the  church.  She  bowed  low  to  Estenega 


136  The  Doomswoman. 

when  he  was  presented,  but  uttered  no  word. 
The  Indian  servants  brought  the  horses  to  the 
door,  and  they  rode  down  the  valley  to  Casa 
Grande. 


The  Doomswoman.  137 


xvn; 

THE  guests  of  Casa  Grande — there  were  many 
besides  Alvarado  and  his  party ;  the  house  was 
full  again — were  gathered  with  the  family  on 
the  corridor  as  Estenega,  Chonita,  and  Pru- 
dencia  dismounted  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
court-yard.  As  Reinaldo  saw  the  enemy  of 
his  house  approach  he  ran  down  the  steps,  ad- 
vanced rapidly,  and  bowed  low  before  him. 

"Welcome,  Senor  Don  Diego  Estenega,"  he 
said, — "  welcome  to  Casa  Grande.  The  house 
is  thine.  Burn  it  if  thou  wilt.  The  servants 
are  thine  ;  I  myself  am  thy  servant.  This  is 
the  supreme  moment  of  my  life,  supremer  even 
than  when  I  learned  of  my  acquittal  of  the 
foul  charges  laid  to  my  door  by  scheming  and 
jealous  enemies.  It  is  long — alas  ! — since  an 
Estenega  and  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  have  met  in 
the  court-yard  of  the  one  or  the  other.  Let  this 
moment  be  the  seal  of  peace,  the  death  of 
feud,  the  unification  of  the  North  and  the 
South." 

"You  have  the  hospitality  of  the  true  Cali- 


138  The  Doomswoman^ 

fornian,  Don  Reinaldo.  It  gives  me  pleasure 
to  accept  it." 

"Would,  then,  thy  pleasure  could  equal 
mine  !  "  ' '  Curse  him  !  "  he  added  to  Chonita,  as 
Estenega  went  up  the  steps  to  greet  Don  Guil- 
lermo  and  Dona  Trinidad,  "I  have  just  re- 
ceived positive  information  that  it  was  he  who 
kept  me  from  distinguishing  myself  and  my 
house  in  the  Departmental  Junta,  he  who  cast 
me  in  a  dungeon.  It  poisons  my  happiness  to 
sleep  under  the  same  roof  with  him." 

"Ay!"  exclaimed  Chonita.  "Why  canst 
thou  not  be  more  sincere,  my  brother  ?  Hos- 
pitality did  not  compel  thee  to  say  so  much  to 
thine  enemy.  Couldst  thou  not  have  spoken 
a  few  simple  words  like  himself,  and  not 
blackened  thy  soul  ? " 

"My  sister!  thou  never  spokest  to  me  so 
harshly  before.  And  on  my  marriage  eve  !  " 

"  Forgive  me,  my  most  beloved  brother. 
Thou  knowest  I  love  thee.  But  it  grieves  me 
to  think  that  even  hospitality  could  make  thee 
false." 

When  they  ascended  the  steps,  not  a  woman 
was  to  be  seen  ;  all  had  followed  Prudencia  to 
her  chamber  to  see  the  donas  of  the  groom, 
which  had  arrived  that  day  from  Mexico. 
Chonita  tarried  long  enough  to  see  that  her 


The  Doomswoman.  139 

father  had  forgotten  the  family  grievance  in 
his  revived  susceptibility  to  Estenega,  then 
went  to  Prudencia's  room.  There  women, 
young  and  old,  crowded  each  other,  jabbering 
like  monkeys.  The  little  iron  bed,  the  chairs 
and  tables,  every  article  of  furniture,  in  fact, 
but  the  altar  in  the  corner,  displayed  to  ad- 
vantage exquisite  materials  for  gowns,  a  mass 
of  elaborate  underclothing,  a  white  lace  man- 
tilla to  be  worn  at  the  bridal,  lace  flounces  fine 
and  deep,  crepe  shawls,  sashes  from  Rome, 
silk  stockings  by  the  dozen.  On  a  large  table 
were  the  more  delicate  and  valuable  gifts  :  a 
rosary  of  topaz,  the  cross  a  fine  piece  of  carv- 
ing ;  a  jeweled  comb;  a  string  of  pearls; 
diamond  hoops  for  the  ears  ;  a  large  pin  painted 
with  a  head  of  Guadalupe,  the  patron  saint 
of  California  ;  and  several  fragile  fans.  Quite 
apart,  on  a  little  table,  was  the  crown  and 
pride  of  the  donas, — six  white  cobweb-like 
smocks,  embroidered,  hemistitched,  and  de- 
shaladoed.  Did  any  California!!  bridegroom 
forget  that  dainty  item  he  would  be  repudiated 
on  his  wedding-eve. 

"God  of  my  life!''  murmured  Valencia, 
"  he  has  taste  as  well  as  gold.  And  all  to  go 
on  that  round  white  doll  !  " 

There  was  little  envy  among  the  other  girls. 


I4o  The  Doomswoman. 

Their  eyes  sparkled  with  good-nature  as  they 
kissed  Prudencia  and  congratulated  her.  The 
older  women  patted  the  things  approvingly  ; 
and,  between  religion,  a  donas  to  satisfy  an 
angel,  and  prospective  bliss,  Prudencia  was 
the  happiest  little  bride-elect  in  all  The  Califor- 
nias. 

4 'Never  were  such  smocks  !  "  cried  one  of 
the  girls.  ' '  Ay  !  he  will  make  a  good  husband. 
That  sign  never  fails." 

"Thou  must  wear  long,  long  trains  now, 
my  Prudencia,  and  be  as  stately  as  Chonita." 

"  Ay  !  "  exclaimed  Prudencia.  Did  not  every 
gown  already  made  have  a  train  longer  than 
herself? 

"  Thou  needst  never  wear  a  mended  stocking 
with  all  these  to  last  thee  for  years, "  said  another  : 
never  had  silk  stockings  been  brought  to  the 
Californias  in  sufficient  plenty  for  the  dancing 
feet  of  its  daughters. 

"  I  shall  always  mend  my  stockings,"  said 
Prudencia,  ' '  I  myself. " 

"Yes,"  said  one  of  the  older  women,  "  thou 
wilt  be  a  good  wife  and  waste  nothing." 

Valencia  laid  her  arm  about  Chonita's  waist. 
"I  wish  to  meet  Don  Diego  Estenega/'  she 
said.  "Wilt  thou  not  present  him  to  me  ?  " 

"Thou    art     verv   forward,"    said    Chonita, 


The  Doomswoman.  141 

coldly.  "  Canst  thou  not  wait  until  he  comes 
thy  way  ?  " 

"  No,  my  Chonita  ;  I  wish  to  meet  him  now. 
My  curiosity  devours  me." 

"Very  well;  come  with  me  and  thou  shalt 
know  him. — Wilt  thou  come  too,  Eustaquia? 
There  are  only  men  on  the  corridor." 

We  found  Diego  and  Don  Guillermo  talking 
politics  in  a  corner,  both  deeply  interested. 
Estenega  rose  at  once. 

"Don  Diego  Estenega,"  said  Chonita,  "I 
would  present  you  to  the  Senorita  Dona  Va- 
lencia Menendez,  of  the  Rancho  del  Fuego." 

Estenega  bowed.  "I  have  heard  much  of 
Dona  Valencia,  and  am  delighted  to  meet  her." 

Valencia  was  nonplussed  for  a  moment ;  he 
had  not  given  her  the  customary  salutation, 
and  she  could  hardly  murmur  the  customary 
reply.  She  merely  smiled  and  looked  so  hand- 
some that  she  could  afford  to  dispense  with 
words. 

"A  superb  type,"  said  Estenega  to  me,  as 
Don  Guillermo  claimed  the  beauty's  attention 
for  a  moment.  "But  only  a  type;  nothing 
distinctive." 

Nevertheless,  ten  minutes  later,  Valencia, 
with  the  manoeuvring  of  the  general  of  many  a 
battle,  had  guided  him  to  a  seat  in  the  sala 


142  The  Doomswoman. 

under  Dona  Trinidad's  sleepy  wing,  and  her  eyes 
were  flashing  the  language  of  Spain  to  his.  I 
saw  Chonita  watch  them  for  a  moment,  in 
mingled  surprise  and  doubt,  then  saw  a  sudden 
look  of  fear  spring  to  her  eyes  as  she  turned 
hastily  and  walked  away. 

Again  I  shared  her  room, — the  thirty  rooms 
and  many  in  the  out-buildings  were  overflowing 
with  guests  who  had  come  a  hundred  leagues 
or  less, — and  after  we  had  been  in  bed  a  half- 
hour,  Chonita,  overcome  by  the  insinuating 
power  of  that  time-honored  confessional,  told 
me  of  her  meeting  with  Estenega  at  the  Mission. 
I  made  few  comments,  but  sighed  :  I  knew 
him  so  well.  "  It  will  be  strange  to  even  seem 
to  be  friends  with  him,"  she  added, — "to  hate 
him  in  my  heart  and  yet  delight  to  talk  with 
him,  and  perhaps  to  regret  when  he  leaves." 

"  Are  you  sure  that  you  still  hate  him  ?  " 

She  sat  up  in  bed.  The  solid  wooden  shutters 
were  closed,  but  over  the  door  was  a  small 
square  aperture,  and  through  this  a  stray  moon- 
beam drifted  and  fell  on  her.  Her  hair  was 
tumbling  about  her  shoulders,  and  she  looked 
decidedly  less  statuesque  than  usual. 

"Eustaquia,"  she  said,  solemnly,  "I  believe 
I  can  go  to  confession." 


The  jDoomswoman.  143 


XVIII. 

AT  sunrise  the  next  morning  the  guests  of  Casa 
Grande  were  horsed  and  ready  to  start  for  the 
Mission.  The  valley  between  the  house  and 
the  Mission  was  alive  with  the  immediate  ran- 
cheros  and  their  families,  and  the  people  of  the 
town,  aristocrats  and  populace. 

At  Estenega's  suggestion,  I  climbed  with  him 
to  the  attic  of  the  tower,  much  to  the  detriment 
of  my  frock.  But  I  made  no  complaint  after 
Diego  had  removed  the  dusty  little  windows  on 
both  sides  and  I  looked  through  the  apertures 
at  the  charming  scene.  The  rising  sun  gave 
added  fire  to  the  bright  red  tiles  of  the  long 
white  Mission,  and  threw  a  pink  glow  on  its 
noble  arches  and  towers  and  on  the  white  mas- 
sive aqueduct.  The  bells  were  crashing  their 
welcome  to  the  bride.  The  deep  valley,  wooded 
and  rocky,  was  pervaded  by  the  soft  glow  of  the 
awakening,  but  was  as  lively  as  midday.  There 
were  horses  of  every  color  the  Lord  has  decreed 
that  horses  shall  wear.  The  saddles  upon 
them  were  of  embossed  leather  or  rich  embroid- 


OF  THE 


144  TJie  Doomswoman. 

ered  silk  heavily  mounted  with  silver.  Above 
all  this  gorgeousness  sat  the  caballeros  and  the 
donas,  in  velvet  and  silk,  gold  lace  and  Spanish, 
jewels  and  mantillas,  and  silver-weighted  som- 
breros ;  a  confused  mass  of  color  and  motion  ; 
a  living  picture,  shifting  like  a  kaleidoscope. 
Nor  was  this  all  :  brown,  soberly-dressed  old 
men  and  women  in  satin-padded  carretas, — 
heavy  ox-carts  on  wheels  made  from  solid  sec- 
tions of  trees,  and  driven  by  a  ganan  seated  on 
one  of  the  animals  ;  the  populace  in  cheap 
finery,  some  on  foot,  others  astride  old  mules  or 
broken-winded  horses,  two  or  three  on  one 
lame  old  hack  ;  all  chattering,  shouting,  eager, 
interested,  impatiently  awaiting  the  bride  and 
a  week  of  pleasure. 

In  the  court-yard  and  plaza  before  it  the 
guests  of  the  house  were  mounted  on  a  cap- 
on era  of  palominas, — horses  peculiar  to  the 
country ;  beautiful  creatures,  golden-bronze, 
and  burnished,  with  luxuriant  manes  and  tails 
which  waved  and  shone  like  the  sparkling  silver 
of  a  water-fall.  A  number  were  riderless,  await- 
ing the  pleasure  of  the  bridal  party.  One  alone 
was  white  as  a  Californian  fog.  He  lifted  his 
head  and  pranced  as  if  aware  of  his  proud  dis- 
tinction. The  aquera  and  saddle  which  em- 
bellished his  graceful  beauty  were  of  pink  silk 


The  Doomswoman.  145 

worked  with  delicate  leaves  in  gold  and  silver 
thread.  The  stirrups,  cut  from  blocks  of  wood, 
were  elaborately  carved.  The  glistening  reins 
were  made  from  the  long  crystal  hairs  of  his 
mane,  and  linked  with  silver.  A  strip  of  pink 
silk,  joined  at  the  ends  with  a  huge  rosette, 
was  hung  from  the  high  silver  pommel  of  the 
saddle,  depending  on  the  left  side, — a  stirrup 
for  my  lady's  foot. 

A  deeper  murmur,  a  sudden  lifting  of  som- 
breros and  waving  of  little  hands,  proclaimed 
that  the  bridal  party  had  appeared,  and  we 
hastened  down. 

Prudencia,  the  mantilla  of  the  donas  depend- 
ing from  a  comb  six  inches  high,  was  attired  ia 
a  white  satin  gown  with  a  train  of  portentous 
length,  and  looked  like  a  kitten  with  a  long  tail. 
Reinaldo  was  dazzling.  He  wore  white  velvet 
embroidered  with  gold  ;  his  linen  and  lace 
were  more  fragile  than  cobwebs  ;  his  white 
satin  slippers  were  clasped  with  diamond 
buckles,  the  same  in  which  his  father  had  mar- 
ried ;  his  jacket  was  buttoned  with  diamonds. 
His  white  velvet  sombrero  was  covered  with 
plumes.  Never  have  I  seen  so  splendid  a 
bridegroom.  I  saw  Estenega  grin  ;  but  I  main- 
tain that,  whatever  Reinaldo's  deficiencies,  he 
was  a  picture  to  be  thankful  for  that  morning. 
10 


146  The  Doomswoman. 

Dona  Trinadad  was  quietly  gowned  in  gray 
satin,  but  Don  Guillermo  was  as  picturesque 
in  his  way  as  his  son.  His  black  silk  hand- 
kerchief had  been  knotted  hurriedly  about  his 
head,  and  the  four  corners  hung  upon  his 
neck.  His  short  breeches  were  of  red  velvet, 
his  jacket  of  blue  cloth  trimmed  with  large  silver 
buttons  and  gold  lace  ;  his  vest  was  of  yellow 
damask,  his  linen  embroidered.  Attached  to 
his  slippers  were  enormous  silver  spurs  inlaid 
with  gold,  the  rowels  so  long  that  they 
scratched  more  trains  than  one  that  day. 

The  bridesmaids  stood  in  a  group  apart,  a 
large  bouquet :  each  wore  a  gown  of  a  different 
color.  Valencia  blazed  forth  in  yellow,  and 
flashed  triumphant  glances  at  Estenega,  now 
and  again  one  of  irrepressible  envy  and  resent- 
ment at  Reinaldo.  Chonita  looked  like  a 
water-witch  in  pale  green  covered  with  lace 
that  stirred  with  every  breath  of  air  ;  her  man- 
tilla was  as  delicate  as  sea-spray.  About  her 
was  something  subtle,  awakened,  restive,  that 
I  noticed  for  the  first  time.  Once  she  inter- 
cepted one  of  Valencia's  lavish  glances,  and  her 
own  eyes  were  extremely  wicked  and  danger- 
ous for  a  moment.  I  looked  at  Estenega.  He 
was  regarding  her  with  a  fierce  intensity  which 
made  him  oblivious  for  the  moment  of  his  sur- 


The  Doomswoman.  147 

roundings.  I  looked  at  Valencia.  Thunder- 
clouds were  those  heavy  brows,  lowered  to  the 
lightning  which  sprang  from  depths  below. 
I  looked  again  at  Chonita.  The  pink  color  was 
in  her  marble  face ;  pinker  were  her  carven 
lips. 

"God  of  my  soul  ! "  I  said  to  Estenega. 
"Go  home." 

"My  Prudencia,"  said  Don  Guillermo.  He 
lifted  her  to  the  pink  saddle,  adjusted  her  foot 
in  the  pink  ribbon,  climbed  up  behind  her, 
placed  one  arm  about  her  waist,  took  the  bridle 
in  his  other  hand,  and  cantered  out  of  the 
court-yard.  Reinaldo  sprang  to  his  horse, 
lifted  his  mother  in  front  of  him,  and  followed. 
Then  went  the  bridesmaids  ;  and  the  rest  of 
us  fell  into  line  as  we  listed.  As  we  rode  up 
the  valley,  those  awaiting  us  joined  the  caval- 
cade, the  populace  closing  it,  spreading  out 
like  a  fan  attached  to  the  tail  of  a  snake.  The 
bells  rang  out  a  joyful  discordant  peal  ;  the 
long  undulating  line  of  many  colors  wound 
through  the  trees,  passed  the  long  corridor  of 
the  Mission,  to  the  stone  steps  of  the  church. 

The  ceremony  was  a  long  one,  for  com- 
munion was  given  the  bride  and  groom  ;  and 
during  the  greater  part  of  it  I  do  not  think 
Estenega  removed  his  gaze  from  Chonita.  I 


148  The  Doomswoman. 

could  not  help  observing  her  too,  although  I 
was  deeply  impressed  with  the  solemnity  of  the 
occasion.  Her  round  womanly  figure  had 
never  appeared  to  greater  advantage  than  in 
that  close-fitting  gown  ;  her  hips  being  rather 
wide,  she  wore  fewer  gathers  than  was  the 
fashion.  Her  faultless  arms  had  a  warmth  in 
their  whiteness  ;  the  filmy  lace  of  her  mantilla 
caressed  a  throat  so  full  and  round  and  white 
and  firm  that  it  seemed  to  invite  other  caresses  ; 
even  the  black  pearls  clung  lovingly  about  it. 
Her  graceful  head  was  bent  forward  a  little, 
and. the  soft  black  lashes  brushed  her  cheeks. 
The  pink  flush  was  still  in  her  face,  like  the 
first  tinge  of  color  on  the  chill  desolation  of 
dawn. 

11  Is  she  not  beautiful? "  whispered  Estenega, 
eagerly.  "Is  not  that  a  woman  to  make 
known  to  herself?  Think  of  the  infinite  possi- 
bilities, the  sublimation  of  every — 

Here  I  ordered  him  to  keep  quiet,  reminding 
him  that  he  was  in  church,  a  fact  he  had  quite 
forgotten.  I  inferred  that  he  remembered  it 
later,  for  he  moved  restlessly  more  than  once 
and  looked  longingly  toward  the  door. 

It  was  over  at  last,  and  as  the  bride  and 
groom  appeared  in  the  door  of  the  church  and 
descended  the  steps,  a  salute  was  fired  from 


The  Doomswoman.  149 

the  Presidio.  On  the  long  corridor  a  table  had 
been  built  from  end  to  end  and  a  goodly  ban- 
quet provided  by  the  padres.  We  took  our 
seats  at  once,  the  populace  gathering  about  a 
feast  spread  for  them  on  the  grass. 

Padre  Jimeno,  the  priest  who  had  officiated  at 
the  ceremony,  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  ;  the 
other  priests  were  scattered  among  us,  and  good 
company  all  of  them  were.  We  were  a  very 
lively  party.  Prudencia  was  toasted  until  her 
calm  important  head  whirled.  Reinaldo  made 
a  speech  as  full  of  flowers  as  the  occasion  de- 
manded. Alvarado  made  one  also,  five  sen- 
tences of  plain  well-chosen  words,  to  which  the 
bridegroom  listened  with  scorn.  Now  and 
again  a  girl  swept  the  strings  of  a  guitar  or  a 
caballero  sang.  The  delighted  shrieks  of  the 
people  came  over  to  us  ;  at  regular  intervals 
cannons  were  fired. 

Estenega  found  himself  seated  between  Cho- 
nita  and  Valencia.  I  was  opposite,  and  begin- 
ning to  feel  profoundly  fascinated  by  this  drama 
developing  before  my  eyes.  I  saw  that  he  was 
amused  by  the  situation  and  not  in  the  least 
disconcerted.  Valencia  was  nervous  and  eager. 
Chonita,  whose  pride  never  failed  her,  had 
drawn  herself  up  and  looked  coldly  indif- 
ferent. 


150  The  Doomswoman. 

"Sefior,"  murmured  Valencia,  "them  wilt 
tarry  with  us  long,  no  ?  We  have  much  to 
show  thee  in  Santa  Barbara,  and  on  our  ran- 
ches. " 

"  I  fear  that  I  can  stay  but  a  week,  senorita. 
I  must  return  to  Los  Angeles. " 

"Would  nothing  tempt  thee  to  stay,  Don 
Diego  ?  " 

He  looked  into  her  rich  Southern  face  and 
approved  of  it  :  when  had  he  ever  failed  to 
approve  of  a  pretty  woman?  "Thine  eyes, 
senorita,  would  tempt  a  man  to  forget  more 
than  duty." 

"And  thou  wilt  stay  ?  " 

"When  I  leave  Santa  Barbara  what  I  take 
of  myself  will  not  be  worth  leaving." 

"Ay!  and  what  thou  lea  vest  thou  never 
shalt  have  again." 

"There  is  my  hope  of  heaven,  senorita." 

He  turned  from  this  glittering  conversation 
to  Chonita. 

"You  are  a  little  tired,"  he  said,  in  a  low 
voice.  "Your  color  has  gone,  and  the  shad- 
ows are  coming  about  your  eyes." 

The  suspicion  was  borne  home  to  her  that 
he  must  have  observed  her  closely  to  detect 
those  shades  of  difference  which  no  one  else 
had  noted. 


The  Doomswoman.  151 

"A  little,  sefior.  I  went  to  bed  late  and 
rose  early.  Such  times  as  these  tax  the  endu- 
rance. But  after  a  siesta  I  shall  be  refreshed." 

"  You  look  strong  and  very  healthy." 

"Ay,  but  I  am  !  I  am  not  delicate  at  all. 
I  can  ride  all  day,  and  swim — which  few  of 
our  women  do.  I  even  like  to  walk  ;  and  I 
can  dance  every  night  for  a  week.  Only,  this 
is  an  unusual  time." 

Her  supple  elastic  figure  and  healthy  white- 
ness of  skin  betokened  endurance  and  vitality, 
and  he  looked  at  her  with  pleasure.  "Yes, 
you  are  strong,"  he  said.  "  You  look  as  if  you 
would  last, — as  if  you  never  would  grow  brown 
nor  stout." 

"What  difference,  if  the  next  generation  be 
beautiful?"  she  said,  lightly.  "Look  at  Don 
Juan  de  la  Borrasca.  See  him  gaze  upon  Pan- 
chita  Lopez,  who  is  just  sixteen.  What  does 
he  care  that  the  women  of  his  day  are  coffee- 
colored  and  stringy  or  fat  ?  You  will  care  as 
little  when  you  too  are  brown  and  dried  up, 
afraid  to  eat  dulces,  and  each  month  seeking  a 
new  parting  for  your  hair." 

* '  You  are  a  hopeful  seer  !  But  you — are  you 
resigned  to  the  time  when  even  the  withered 
old  beau  will  not  look  at  you, — you  who  are 
the  loveliest  woman  in  the  Californias  ? " 


152  The  Doomswoman. 

It  was  the  first  compliment  he  had  paid  her, 
and  she  looked  up  with  a  swift  blush,  then  low- 
ered her  eyes  again.  "With  truth,  I  never  im- 
agine myself  except  as  I  am  now  ;  but  I  should 
have  always  my  books,  and  no  husband  to 
teach  me  that  there  were  other  women  more 
fair." 

"And  books  will  suffice,  then  ?" 

' '  Sure. "  She  said  it  a  little  wistfully.  Then 
she  added,  abruptly,  ' '  I  shall  go  to  confession 
this  week." 

"Ah!" 

"Yes  ;  for  although  I  hate  you  still — that  is, 
I  do  not  like  you — I  have  forgiven  you.  I  be- 
lieve you  to  be  kind  and  generous,  although 
the  enemy  of  my  brother  ;  that  if  you  did  op- 
pose him  and  cast  him  into  prison,  you  did  so 
with  a  loyal  motive  ;  you  cannot  help  making 
mistakes,  for  you  are  but  human.  And  I  do 
not  forget  that  if  it  were  not  for  you  he  would 
not  be  a  bridegroom  to-day.  Also,  you  are 
not  responsible  for  being  an  Estenega  ;  so,  al- 
though I  do  not  forgive  the  blood  in  you, — how 
could  I,  and  be  worthy  to  bear  the  name  of 
Iturbi  y  Moncada  ? — I  forgive  you,  yourself, 
for  being  what  you  cannot  help,  and  for  what 
you  have  unwittingly  and  mistakenly  done. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 


The  Doomswoman.  153 

"  I  understand.  Your  subtleties  are  magnifi- 
cent. " 

"You  must  not  laugh  at  me.  Tell  me,  how 
do  you  like  my  friend  Valencia  ?  " 

"Well  enough.  I  want  to  hear  more  about 
your  confession.  You  fall  back  into  the  bosom 
of  your  Church  with  joy,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Ay!" 

"And  you  would  never  disobey  one  of  her 
mandates  ?  " 

"Holy  God!  no." 

"Why?" 

' '  Why  ?     Because  I  am  a  Catholic. " 

"That  is  not  what  I  asked  you.  Why  are 
you  a  Catholic  ?  if  I  must  make  myself  more 
plain.  Why  are  you  afraid  to  disobey  ?  Why 
do  you  cling  to  the  Church  with  your  back 
braced  against  your  intelligence  ?  It  is  hope 
of  future  reward,  I  suppose, — or  fear  ?  " 

"Sure.  I  want  to  go  to  the  heaven  of  the 
good  Catholic. " 

"Do  not  waste  this  life,  particularly  the 
youth  of  it,  preparing  for  a  legendary  hereafter. 
Granting,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  this 
existence  is  supplemented  by  another  :  you 
have  no  knowledge  of  what  elements  you  will 
be  composed  when  you  lay  aside  your  mortal 
part  to  enter  there.  Your  power  of  enjoyment 


154  The  Doomswoman. 

may  be  very  thin  indeed,  like  the  music  of  a 
band  without  brass  ;  the  sort  of  happiness  one 
can  imagine  a  human  being  to  experience  out 
of  whose  anatomy  the  nervous  system  has  by 
some  surgical  triumph  been  removed,  and  in 
whom  love  of  the  arts  alone  exists,  abnormally 
cultivated.  But  one  thing  we  of  earth  do  know  ; 
you  do  not,  but  I  will  tell  you  ;  we  have  a 
slight  capacity  for  happiness  and  a  large  capac- 
ity for  enjoyment.  There  is  not  much  in  life, 
God  knows,  but  there  is  something.  One  can 
get  a  reasonable  amount  out  of  it  with  due 
exercise  of  philosophy.  Of  that  we  are  sure. 
Of  what  comes  after  we  are  absolutely  unsure." 

She  had  endeavored  to  interrupt  him  once 
or  twice,  and  did  so  now,  her  eyes  flashing. 
' '  Are  you  an  atheist  ?  "  she  demanded,  ab- 
ruptly. "  Are  you  not  a  Catholic  ?  " 

1 '  I  am  neither  an  atheist  nor  a  Catholic. 
The  question  of  religion  has  no  interest  for  me 
whatever.  I  wish  it  had  none  for  you." 

She  looked  at  him  sternly.  For  a  moment  I 
thought  the  Doomswoman  would  annihilate 
the  renegade.  But  her  face  softened  suddenly. 
"  I  will  pray  for  you,"  she  said,  and  turned  to 
the  man  at  her  right. 

Estenega's  face  turned  the  chalky  hue  I  al- 
ways dreaded,  and  he  bent  his  lips  to  her  ear. 


The  Doomswoman.  155 

"  Pray  for  me  many  times  a  day  ;  and  at  other 
times  recall  what  I  said  about  the  relative 
value  of  possible  and  improbable  heavens. 
You  are  a  woman  who  thinks. " 

"Don  Diego,"  exclaimed  Valencia,  unable 
to  control  her  impatience  longer,  and  turning 
sharply  from  the  caballero  who  was  talking  to 
her  in  a  fiery  undertone,  ' '  thou  hast  not  spoken 
to  me  for  ten  minutes. " 

4 '  For  ten  hours,  senorita.  Thou  hast  treated 
me  with  the  scorn  and  indifference  of  one 
weary  of  homage." 

She  blushed  with  gratification.  ''It  is  thou 
who  hast  forgotten  me." 

"Would  that  I  could!" 

"Dost  thou  wish  to?" 

"When  I  am  away  from  thee,  or  thou  talk- 
est  to  other  men, — sure." 

"  It  is  thy  fault  if  I  talk  to  other  men." 

"You  make  me  feel  the  Good  Samaritan." 

"  But  I  care  not  to  talk  to  them." 

"Thy  heart  is  a  comb  of  honey,  senorita. 
On  my  knees  I  accept  the  little  morsel  the 
queen  bee — thy  swift  messenger — brings  me. 
Truly,  never  was  sweet  so  sweetly  sweet." 

"It  is  thou  who  hast  the  honey  on  thy 
tongue,  although  I  fear  there  may  be  a  stone 
in  thy  heart." 


156  The  Doomswoman. 

"  Ah  !  Why  ?  No  stone  could  sit  so  lightly 
in  my  breast  as  my  heart  when  those  red  lips 
smile  to  me." 

Chonita  listened  to  this  conversation  with 
mingled  amazement  and  anger.  She  did  not 
doubt  Estenega's  sincerity  to  herself;  neither 
did  Valencia  appear  to  doubt  him.  But  his 
present  levity  was  manifest  to  her.  Why 
should  he  care  to  talk  so  to  another  woman  ? 
How  strange  were  men !  She  gave  up  the 
problem. 

After  the  long  banquet  concluded,  the  caval- 
cade formed  once  more,  and  we  returned  to 
the  town.  Prudencia  rode  her  white  horse  alone 
this  time,  her  husband  beside  her.  Leading  the 
cavalcade  was  the  Presidio  band.  Its  members 
wore  red  jackets  trimmed  with  yellow  cord, 
Turkish  trousers  of  white  wool,  and  red  Polish 
caps.  With  their  music  mingled  the  regular 
detonations  of  the  Presidio  cannon.  After  we 
had  wound  the  length  of  the  valley  we  made  a 
progress  through  the  town  for  the  benefit  of 
the  populace,  who  ran  to  the  corridors  to  watch 
us,  and  shouted  with  delight.  But  the  sun  was 
hot,  and  we  were  all  glad  to  be  between  the 
thick  adobe  walls  once  more. 

We  took  a  long  siesta  that  day,  but  hours 
before  dark  the  populace  was  crowded  in  the 


The  Doomswoman.  157 

court-yard  under  the  booth  which  had  been 
erected  during  the  afternoon.  After  the  early 
supper  the  guests  of  Casa  Grande,  and  our 
neighbors  of  the  town,  filled  the  sala,  the  large 
bare  rooms  adjoining,  and  the  corridors.  The 
old  people  of  both  degrees  seated  themselves 
in  rows  against  the  wall,  the  fiddles  scraped, 
the  guitars  twanged,  the  flutes  cooed,  and  the 
dancing  began. 

In  the  court-yard  a  small  space  was  cleared, 
and  changing  couples  danced  El  Jarabe  and 
La  Jota, — two  stately  jigs, — whilst  the  spec- 
tators applauded  with  wild  and  impartial  en- 
thusiasm, and  Don  Guillermo  from  the  corridor 
threw  silver  coins  at  the  dancers'  feet.  Now 
and  again  a  pretty  girl  would  dance  alone,  her 
gay  skirt  lifted  with  the  tips  of  her  ringers,  her 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground.  A  man  would 
approach  from  behind  and  place  his  hat  on  her 
head.  Perhaps  she  would  toss  it  saucily  aside, 
perhaps  let  it  rest  on  her  coquettish  braids, — a 
token  that  its  owner  was  her  accepted  gallant 
for  the  evening. 

Above,  the  slender  men  and  women  of  the 
aristocracy,  the  former  in  black  and  white,  the 
latter  in  gowns  of  vivid  richness,  danced  the 
contradanza,  the  most  graceful  dance  I  have 
ever  seen  ;  and  since  those  California!!  days  I 


158  The  Doomswoman. 

have  lived  in  almost  every  capital  of  Europe. 
The  music  is  so  monotonous  and  sweet,  the 
figures  so  melting-  and  harmonious,  that  to 
both  spectator  and  dancer  comes  a  dreaming 
languid  contentment,  as  were  the  senses 
swimming  on  the  brink  of  sleep.  Chonita  and 
Valencia  were  famous  rivals  in  its  rendering, 
always  the  sala-stars  to  those  not  dancing. 
Valencia  was  the  perfection  of  grace,  but  it 
was  the  grace  now  of  the  snake,  again  of  the 
cat.  She  suggested  fangs  and  claws,  a  re- 
pressed propensity  to  sudden  leaps.  Chonita's 
grace  was  that  of  rhythmical  music  imprisoned 
in  a  woman's  form  of  proportions  so  perfect 
that  she  seemed  to  dissolve  from  one  figure 
into  another,  swaying,  bending,  gliding.  The 
soul  of  grace  emanated  from  her,  too  evan- 
escent to  be  seen,  but  felt  as  one  feels  perfume 
or  the  something  that  is  not  color  in  the  heart 
of  a  rose.  Her  star-like  eyes  were  open,  but  the 
brain  behind  them  was  half  asleep  :  she  danced 
by  instinct. 

I  was  watching  the  dancing  of  these  two, — 
the  poetry  of  promise  and  the  poetry  of 
death, — when  suddenly  Don  Guillermo  entered 
the  room,  stamped  his  foot,  pulled  out  his 
rosary,  and  instantly  we  all  went  down  on  our 
knees.  It  was  eight  of  the  clock,  and  this 


V 


The  Doomswoman.  159 

ceremony  was  never  omitted  in  Casa  Grande, 
be  the  occasion  festive  or  domestic.  When 
we  had  told  our  beads,  Don  Guillermo  rose, 
put  his  rosary  in  his  pocket,  trotted  out,  and 
the  dancing  was  resumed. 

As  the  contradanza  and  its  ensuing  waltz 
finished,  Estenega  went  up  to  Chonita.  "  You 
are  too  tired  to  dance  anymore  to-night,"  he 
said.  "Let  us  sit  here  and  talk.  Besides,  I 
do  not  like  to  see  you  whirling  about  the  room 
in  men's  arms." 

"It  is  nothing  to  you  if  I  dance  with  other 
men,"  she  said,  rebelliously,  although  she  took 
the  seat  he  indicated.  "And  to  dance  is  not 
wrong." 

'/Nothing  is  wrong.  In  some  countries  the 
biggest  liar  is  king.  We  know  as  little  of  eth- 
ics— except,  to  be  sure,  the  ethics  of  civilization 
— as  one  sex  knows  of  another.  So  we  fall  back 
on  instinct,  j  I  have  not  a  prejudice,  but  I  feel 
it  disgusting  to  see  a  woman  who  is  somewhat 
more  to  me  than  other  women,  embraced  by 
another  man.  It  would  infuriate  me  if  done  in 
private ;  why  should  it  not  at  least  disgust  me 
in  public  ?  I  care  as  little  for  the  approving  seal 
of  the  conventions  as  I  care  whether  other  wo- 
men— including  my  own  sisters — waltz  or  not." 

And,  alas  !    from  that  night  Chonita   never 


160  The  Dooms-woman. 

waltzed  again.  "  It  is  not  that  I  care  for  his 
opinion,"  she  assured  me  later  ;  "only  he  made 
me  feel  that  I  never  wanted  a  man  to  touch  me 
again." 

Valencia  used  every  art  of  flashing  eyes  and 
pouting  lips  and  gay  sally — there  was  nothing 
subtle  in  her  methods — to  win  Estenega  to  her 
side ;  but  the  sofa  on  which  he  sat  with  Cho- 
nita  might  have  been  the  remotest  star  in  the 
firmament.  Then,  prompted  by  pique  and  de- 
termination to  find  ointment  for  her  wounded 
vanity,  she  suddenly  opened  her  batteries  upon 
Reinaldo.  That  beautiful  young  bridegroom 
was  bored  to  the  verge  of  dissolution  by  his  sol- 
emn and  sleepy  Prudencia,  who  kept  her  wide 
eyes  upon  him  with  an  expression  of  rapt  adora- 
tion, exactly  as  she  regarded  the  Stations  in  the 
Mission  when  performing  the  Via  Crucis.  Va- 
lencia, to  his  mind,  was  the  handsomest  woman 
in  the  room,  and  he  felt  the  flattery  of  her  as- 
sault. Besides,  he  -was  safely  married.  So  he 
drifted  to  her  side,  danced  with  her,  flirted  with 
her,  devoted  himself  to  her  caprices,  until  every 
one  was  noting,  and  I  thought  that  Prudencia 
would  bawl  outright.  Just  in  the  moment,  how- 
ever, when  our  nerves  were  humming,  Don 
Guillermo  thumped  on  the  door  with  his  stick 
and  ordered  us  all  to  go  to  bed. 


The  Doomswoman.  161 


XIX. 

THE  next  morning  we  started  at  an  early  hour 
for  the  Rancho  de  las  Rocas,  three  leagues 
from  Santa  Barbara.  The  populace  remained 
in  the  booth,  but  we  were  joined  by  all  our 
friends  of  the  town,  and  once  more  were  a 
large  party.  We  were  bound  for  a  merienda 
and  a  carnesada,  where  bullocks  would  be 
roasted  whole  on  spits  over  a  bed  of  coals  in  a 
deep  excavation.  It  took  a  Californian  only  a 
few  hours  to  sleep  off  fatigue,  and  we  were  as 
fresh  and  gay  as  if  we  had  gone  to  bed  at  eight 
the  night  before. 

Valencia  managed  to  ride  beside  Estenega, 
and  I  wondered  if  she  would  win  him.  Wo- 
man's persistence,  allied  to  man's  vanity,  so 
often  accomplishes  the  result  intended  by  the 
woman.  It  seemed  to  me  the  simplest  climax 
for  the  unfolding  drama,  although  I  should  have 
been  sorry  for  Diego. 

It  was  Reinaldo's  turn  to  look  black,  but  he 
devoted  himself  ostentatiously    to  Prudencia, 
who  beamed  like  a  child  with  a  stick  of  candy. 
ii 


1 62  The  Doomswoman. 

Chonita  rode  between  Don  Juan  de  la  Borrasca 
and  Adan.  Her  face  was  calm,  but  it  occurred 
to  me  that  she  was  growing  careless  of  her  sov- 
ereignty, for  her  manner  was  abstracted  and  in- 
different ;  she  seemed  to  have  discarded  those 
little  coquetries  which  had  sat  so  gracefully 
upon  her.  Still,  as  long  as  she  concealed  the 
light  of  her  mind  under  a  bushel,  her  beauty 
and  Lorleian  fascination  would  draw  men  to 
her  feet  and  keep  them  there.  Every  man  but 
Estenega  and  Alvarado  was  as  gay  of  color  as 
the  wild  flowers  had  been,  and  the  girls,  as  they 
cantered,  looked  like  full-blown  roses.  Choni- 
ta wore  a  dark-blue  gown  and  reboso  of  thin 
silk,  which  became  her  fairness  marvelously 
well. 

"Dofia  Chonita,  light  of  my  eyes,"  said  Don 
Juan,  "thou  art  not  wont  to  be  so  quiet  when 
I  am  by  thee. " 

' '  Thou  usually  hast  enough  to  say  for  two. " 

"Ay,  thou  canst  appreciate  the  art  of  speech. 
Hast  thou  ever  known  any  one  who  could 
converse  with  lighter  ease  than  I  and  thy 
brother  ? " 

"  I  never  have  heard  any  one  use  more 
words. " 

"  Ay  !  they  roll  from  my  tongue — and  from 
Reinaldo's — like  wheels  downhill. ". 


The  Doomswoman.  163 

She  turned  to  Adan  :  "They  will  be  happy, 
you  think, — Reinaldo  and  Prudencia?" 

"Ay  !" 

"What  a  beautiful  wedding,  no  ?  " 

"Ay  !" 

"Life  is  always  the  same  with  thee,  I  sup- 
pose,— smoking,  riding,  swinging  in  the  ham- 
mock ?  " 

"Ay  !  " 

"Thou  wouldst  not  exchange  thy  life  for 
another?  Thou  dost  not  wish  to  travel?" 

"No,— sure." 

She  wheeled  suddenly  and  galloped  over  to 
her  father  and  Alvarado,  her  caballeros  staring 
helplessly  after  her. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  rancho  the  bullocks 
were  already  swinging  in  the  pits,  the  smell  of 
roast  meat  was  in  the  air.  We  dismounted, 
throwing  our  bridles  to  the  vaqueros  in  waiting  ; 
and  while  Indian  servants  spread  the  table,  the 
girls  joined  hands  and  danced  about  the  pit, 
throwing  flowers  upon  the  bullocks,  singing  and 
laughing.  The  men  watched  them,  or  amused 
themselves  in  various  ways, — some  with  cock- 
fights and  impromptu  races ;  others  began  at 
once  to  gamble  on  a  large  flat  stone  ;  a  group 
stood  about  a  greased  pole  and  jeered  at  two 
rival  vaqueros  endeavoring  to  mount  it  for  the 


164  The  Doomswoman. 

sake  of  the  gold  piece  on  the  top.  One  buried 
a  rooster  in  the  ground,  leaving  its  head  alone 
exposed  ;  others,  mounting  their  horses,  dashed 
by  at  full  speed,  snatching  at  the  head  as  they 
passed.  Reinaldo  distinguished  himself  by 
twisting  it  off  with  facile  wrist  while  urging  his 
horse  to  the  swiftness  of  the  east  wind. 

"  I  am  going  to  dare  more  than  Californian 
has  ever  dared  before,"  said  Estenega  to  me, 
as  we  gathered  at  length  about  the  table-cloth. 
"  I  am  going  to  get  Dona  Chonita  off  by  her- 
self in  that  little  canon  and  have  a  talk  with 
her.  Now,  do  you  stand  guard. " 

"  I  shall  not  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "It  is  under- 
stood that  when  DonaTrinidad  stays  at  home 
Chonita  is  in  my  charge.  I  will  not  permit 
such  a  thing. " 

"Thou  wilt,  my  Eustaquia.  Dona  Chonita 
is  no  pudding-brained  girl.  She  needs  no 
duefia. " 

"  I  know  that  ;  but  it  is  not  that  I  am  think- 
ing of.  Suppose  some  one  sees  you  ;  thou 
knowest  the  inflexibility  of  our  conventions." 

"  You  forget  that  we  are  comadre  and  corn- 
padre.  Our  privileges  are  many. "  He  abruptly 
dismissed  the  intimate  "thou,"  with  his  usual 
American  perversity. 

"  True  ;  I  had  forgotten.     But  whither  is  all 


The  Doomswoman.  165 

this  tending,  Diego  ?  She  neither  will  nor  can 
marry  you. " 

"  She  both  can  and  will.  Will  you  help  me, 
or  not  ?  Because  if  not  I  shall  proceed  without 
you.  Only  you  can  make  it  easier." 

I  always  gave  way  to  him  ;  everybody  did. 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  How  he  man- 
aged, Chonita  never  knew,  but  not  a  half-hour 
after  dinner  she  found  herself  alone  in  the  canon 
with  him,  seated  among  the  huge  stones  cata- 
clysms had  hurled  there. 

"Why  have  you  brought  me  here?"  she 
asked. 

"To  talk  with  you." 

"But  this  would  be  severely  censured. 

"  Do  you  care?  " 

"No." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  curious  feeling  she 
had  had  before  ;  there  was  something  inside  of 
his  head  that  she  wanted  to  get  at, — something 
that  baffled  and  teased  and  allured  her.  She 
wanted  to  understand  him,  and  she  was  op- 
pressed by  the  weight  of  her  ignorance  ;  she 
had  no  key  to  unlock  a  man  like  that.  With 
one  of  her  swift  impulses  she  told  him  of  what 
she  was  thinking. 

He  smiled,  his  eyes  lighting.  "I  am  more 
than  willing  you  should  know  all  that  you 


1 66  The  Doomswoman. 

would  be  curious  about,"  he  said.  "Ask  me 
a  hundred  questions  ;  I  will  answer  them." 

She  meditated  a  moment.  She  never  had 
taken  sufficient  interest  in  a  man  before  to  de- 
sire to  fathom  him,  and  the  arts  of  the  Califor- 
nian  belle  were  not  those  of  the  tactfully  and 
impartially  interested  woman  of  to-day.  She 
did  not  know  how  to  begin. 

"What  have  you  read?"  she  asked,  at 
length. 

He  gave  her  some  account  of  his  library, — a 
large  one, — and  mentioned  many  books  of 
many  nations,  of  which  she  had  never  heard. 

"You  have  read  all  those  books  ?  " 

"There  are  many  long  winter  nights  and 
days  in  the  redwood  forests  of  the  northern 
coast. " 

"That  does  not  tell  me  much, — what  you 
have  read.  I  feel  that  it  is  but  one  of  the  many 
items  which  went  to  the  making  up  of  you. 
You  have  traveled  everywhere,  no  ?  Was  it 
like  living  over  again  the  books  of  travel  ?  " 

"Not  in  the  least.  Each  man  travels  for 
himself." 

' '  Madame  de  Stael  said  that  traveling  was 
sad.  Is  it  so  ?  " 

"To  the  lover  of  history  it  is  like  food  with- 
out salt :  imagination  has  painted  an  historical 


The  Doomswoman.  167 

city  with  the  panorama  of  a  great  time  ;  it 
has  been  to  us  a  stage  for  great  events.  We 
find  it  a  stage  with  familiar  paraphernalia,  and 
actors  as  commonplace  as  ourselves." 

"  It  is  more  satisfactory  to  stay  at  home  and 
read  about  it  ?  " 

"Infinitely,  though  less  expanding." 

"Then  is  anything  worth  while  except  read- 
ing?" 

"Several  things  ;  the  pursuit  of  glory,  for  one 
thing,  and  the  active  occupied  life  necessary 
for  its  achievement. " 

She  leaned  forward  a  little  ;  she  felt  that  she 
had  stumbled  nearer  to  him.  "Are  you  am- 
bitious ? "  she  asked. 

' '  For  what  it  compels  life  to  yield ;  abstractly, 
not.  Ambition  is  the  looting  of  hell  in  chase 
of  biting  flames  swirling  above  a  desert  of  ashes/) 
As  for  posthumous  fame,  it  must  be  about  as 
satisfactory  as  a  draught  of  ice-water  poured 
down  the  throat  of  a  man  who  has  died  on  Sa- 
hara. And  yet,  even  if  in  the  end  it  all  means 
nothing,  if  '  from  hour  to  hour  we  ripe  and  ripe 
and  then  from  hour  to  hour  we  rot  and  rot/ 
still  for  a  quarter-century  or  so  the  nettle  of 
ambition  flagellating  our  brain  may  serve  to 
make  life  less  uninteresting  and  more  satisfac- 
tory. The  abstraction  and  absorption  of  the 


1 68  The  Doomswoman. 

fight,  the  stinging  fear  of  rivals,  the  murmur 
of  acknowledgment,  the  shout  of  compelled 
applause, — they  fill  the  blanks." 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said,  imperiously,  "  what  do 
you  want  ? " 

"Shall  I  tell  you?  I  never  have  spoken  of 
it  to  a  living  soul  but  Alvarado.  Shall  I  tell  it 
to  a  woman, — and  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada? 
Could  the  folly  of  man  further  go  ?  " 

"If  I  am  a  woman  I  am  an  Iturbi  y  Mon- 
cada, and  if  I  am  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  I  have 
the  honor  of  its  generations  in  my  veins." 

"Very  good.  I  believe  you  would  not  be- 
tray me,  even  in  the  interest  of  your  house. 
Would  you  ? " 

"No." 

"And  I  love  to  talk  to  you,  to  tell  you  what 
I  would  tell  no  other.  Listen,  then.  An  en- 
voy goes  to  Mexico  next  week  with  letters  from 
Alvarado,  desiring  that  I  be  the  next  governor 
of  the  Californias,  and  containing  the  assurance 
that  the  Departmental  Junta  will  endorse  me. 
I  shall  follow  next  month  to  see  Santa  Ana  per- 
sonally ;  I  know  him  well,  and  he  was  a  friend 
of  my  father's.  I  wish  to  be  invested  with  pe- 
culiar powers  ;  that  is  to  say,  I  wish  California 
to  be  practically  overlooked  while  I  am  gover- 
nor and  I  wish  it  understood  that  I  shall  be 


The  Doomswoman.  169 

governor  as  long  as  I  please.  Alvarado  will 
hold  no  office  under  the  Americans,  and  is  as 
ready  to  retire  now  as  a  few  years  later.  Of 
course  my  predilection  for  the  Americans  must 
be  carefully  concealed  both  from  the  Mexican 
government  and  the  mass  of  the  people  here  : 
Santa  Ana  and  Alvarado  know  what  is  bound 
to  come;  the  Mexicans,  generally,  retain 
enough  interest  in  the  Californias  to  wish  to 
keep  them.  I  shall  be  the  last  governor  of  the 
Department,  and  I  shall  employ  that  period  to 
amalgamate  the  native  population  so  closely 
that  they  will  make  a  strong  contingent  in  the 
new  order  of  things  and  be  completely  under 
my  domination.  I  shall  establish  a  college 
with  American  professors,  so  that  our  youth 
will  be  taught  to  think,  and  to  think  in  English. 
Alvarado  has  done  something  for  education, 
but  not  enough ;  he  has  not  enforced  it,  and 
the  methods  are  very  primitive.  I  intend  to 
be  virtually  dictator.  With  as  little  delay  as 
possible  I  shall  establish,  a  newspaper, — a 
powerful  weapon  in  the  hands  of  a  ruler,  as 
well  as  a  factor  of  development.  Then  I  shall 
organize  a  superior  court  for  the  punishment  of 
capital  crimes.  Not  that  I  do  not  recognize 
the  right  of  a  man  to  kill  if  his  reasons  satisfy 
himself,  but  there  can  be  no  subservience  to 


170  The  Doomswoman. 

authority  in  a  country  where  murder  is  practi- 
cally licensed.  American  immigration  will  be 
more  than  encouraged,  and  it  shall  be  distinctly 
understood  by  the  Americans  that  I  encourage 
it.  Everything,  of  course,  will  be  done  to  pro- 
mote good-will  between  the  Californians  and 
the  new-comers.  Then,  when  the  United  States 
make  up  their  mind  to  take  possession  of  us,  I 
shall  waste  no  blood,  but  hand  over  a  country 
worthy  of  capture.  In  the  meantime  it  will 
have  been  carefully  drilled  into  the  California!! 
mind  that  American  occupation  will  be  for  their 
ultimate  good,  and  that  I  shall  go  to  Wash- 
ington to  protect  their  interests.  There  will 
then  be  no  foolish  insurrections.  Do  you  care 
to  hear  more  ?  " 

Her  face  was  flushed,  her  chest  was  rising 
rapidly. 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  think, — how  I  feel. 
You  interest  me  so  much  as  you  talk  that  I 
wish  you  to  succeed  :  I  picture  your  success, 
And  yet  it  maddens  me  to  hear  you  talk  of  the 
Americans  in  that  way, — also  to  know  that 
your  house  will  be  greater  than  ours, — that 
we  will  be  forgotten.  But — yes,  tell  me  all. 
What  will  you  do  then  ? " 

"I  shall  have  California,  in  the  first  place, 
scratched  for  the  gold  that  I  believe  lies  some- 


The  Doomswoman.  171 

where  within  her.  When  that  great  resource 
is  located  and  developed  I  shall  publish  in  every 
American  newspaper  the  extraordinary  agri- 
cultural advantages  of  the  country.  In  a  word, 
my  object  is  to  make  California  a  great  State 
and  its  name  synonymous  with  my  own.  As 
I  told  you  before,  for  fame  as  fame  I  care  noth- 
ing ;  I  do  not  care  if  I  am  forgotten  on  my 
death-bed  ;  but  with  my  blood  biting  my  veins 
I  must  have  action  while  living.  Shall  I  say 
that  I  have  a  worthier  motive  in  wishing  to 
aid  in  the  development  of  civilization  ?  But 
why  worthier?  Merely  a  higher  form  of  selfish- 
ness. The  best  and  the  worst  of  motives  are 
prompted  by  the  same  instinct." 

"  I  would  advise  you,"  she  said,  slowly, 
"never  to  marry.  Your  wife  would  be  very 
unhappy. " 

"But  no  one  has  greater  scorn  than  you  for 
the  man  who  spends  his  life  with  his  lips  at 
the  chalice  of  the  poppy." 

' '  True,  I  had  forgotten  them. "  She  rose 
abruptly.  ''Let  us  go  back,"  she  said.  "It 
is  better  not  to  stay  too  long." 

As  they  walked  down  the  canon  she  looked 
at  him  furtively.  The  men  of  her  race  were 
almost  all  tall  and  finely-proportioned,  but  they 
did  not  suggest  strength  as  this  man  did.  And 


172  The  Doomswoman. 

his  face, — it  was  so  grimly  determined  at  times 
that  she  shrank  from  it,  then  drew  near,  fasci- 
nated. It  had  no  beauty  at  all — according 
to  Californian  standards  ;  she  could  not  know 
that  it  represented  all  that  intellect,  refine- 
ment and  civilization,  generally,  would  do  for 
the  human  race  for  a  century  to  come, — but 
it  had  a  subtle  power,  an  absolute  audacity, 
an  almost  contemptuous  fearlessness  in  its  bold, 
fine  outline,  a  dominating  intelligence  in  the 
keen  deeply-set  eyes,  and  a  hint  of  weakness, 
where  and  what  she  could  not  determine,  that 
mystified  and  magnetized  her. 

11 1  know  you  a  little  better,"  she  said,  "just 
a  little, — enough  to  make  my  curiosity  ache 
and  jump.  At  the  same  time,  I  know  now 
what  I  did  not  before, — that  I  might  climb  and 
mine  and  study  and  watch,  and  you  would 
always  be  beyond  me.  There  is  something 
subtle  and  evasive  about  you — something  I 
seem  to  be  close  to  always,  yet  never  can  see 
or  grasp. " 

/  "  It  is  merely  the  barrier  of  sex.  A  man  can 
know  a  woman  fairly  well,  because  her  life, 
consequently  the  interests  which  mould  her 
mind  and  conceive  her  thoughts,  are  more  or 
less  simple./ (A  man's  life  is  so  complex,  his 
nature  so  inevitably  the  sum  and  work  of  it 


The  Doomswoman,  173 

• — much  of  it  lies  so  far  outside  of  woman's 
sphere,  his  mind  spiked  with  a  thousand  mag- 
nets, each  pointing  to  a  different  possibility, — 
that  she  would  need  divine  wisdom  to  compre- 
hend him  in  his  entirety,  even  if  he  made  her 
a  diagram  of  every  cell  in  his  brain, — which  he 
never  would,  out  of  consideration  for  both 
her  and  his  own  vanity.  But  within  certain 
restrictions  there  can  be  a  magnificent  sense  of 
comradeship,  "j 

f'But  a  woman,  I  think,  would  never  be 
happy  with  that  something  in  the  man  always 
beyond  her  grasp, — that  something  which  she 
could  be  nothing  to.  She  would  be  more  jeal- 
ous of  that  independence  of  her  in  man  than 
of  another  woman."  J 

''That  was  pure  insight,"  he  said.  "You 
could  not  know  that." 

"No,"  she  said,  "  I  had  not  thought  of  it  be- 
fore." 

I  had  made  a  martyr  of  myself  on  a  three- 
cornered  stone  at  the  entrance  of  the  cafion, 
waiting  to  duena  them  out.  "Never  will  I 
do  this  again  !  "  I  exclaimed,  with  that  virtue 
born  of  discomfort,  as  they  came  in  sight. 

"My  dearest  Eustaquia,"  said  Diego,  kiss- 
ing my  hand  gallantly,  "thou  hast  given  me 
pleasure  so  often,  most  charming  and  clever  of 


174  The  Doomswoman. 

women,  thou  hast  but  added  one  new  art  to 
thy  overflowing  store. " 

We  mounted  almost  immediately  upon  re- 
turning, and  I  was  alone  with  Chonita  for  a 
moment  "  Do  you  realize  that  you  are  play- 
ing with  fire?  "  I  said,  warningly.  "  Estenega 
is  a  dangerous  man  ;  the  most  successful  man 
with  women  I  have  ever  known." 

"  I  do  not  deny  his  power,"  she  said.  "  But 
I  am  safe,  for  the  many  reasons  thou  knowest 
of.  And,  being  safe,  why  should  I  deny  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  talking  to  him?  I  shall 
never  meet  his  like  again.  Let  me  live  for  a 
little  while." 

"Ay,  but  do  not  live  too  hard!  It  hurts 
down  into  the  core  and  marrow." 


The  Doomswoman.  175 


XX. 


WHILE  we  were  eating  supper,  a  dozen  Indian 
girls  were  gathered  about  a  table  in  one  of  the 
large  rooms  behind  the  house,  busily  engaged 
in  blowing  out  the  contents  of  several  hundred 
eggs  and  rilling  the  hollowed  shells  with  col- 
ogne, flour,  tinsel,  bright  scraps  of  paper.  Each 
egg  was  then  sealed  with  white  wax,  and  ready 
for  the  cascaron  frolic  of  the  evening. 

We  had  been  dancing,  singing,  and  talking 
for  an  hour  after  rosario,  when  the  eggs  were 
brought  in.  In  an  instant  every  girl's  hair  was 
unbound,  a  wild  dive  was  made  for  the  great 
trays,  and  eggs  flew  in  every  direction.  Danc- 
ing was  forgotten.  The  girls  and  men  chased 
each  other  about  the  room,  the  air  was  filled 
with  perfume  and  glittering  particles,  the  latter 
looking  very  pretty  on  black  floating  hair. 
Etiquette  demanded  that  only  one  egg  should 
be  thrown  by  the  same  hand  at  a  time,  but 
quick  turns  of  supple  wrists  followed  each  other 
very  rapidly.  To  really  accomplish  a  feat  the 
egg  must  crash  on  the  back  of  the  head,  and 
each  occupied  in  attack  was  easy  prey. 


176  The  Doomswoman. 

Chonita  was  like  a  child.  Two  priests  were 
of  our  party,  and  she  made  a  target  of  their 
shaven  crowns,  shrieking  with  delight.  They 
vowed  revenge,  and  chased  her  all  over  the 
house  ;  but  not  an  egg  had  broken  on  that 
golden  mane.  She  was  surrounded  at  one 
time  by  caballeros,  but  she  whirled  and 
doubled  so  swiftly  that  every  cascaron  flew 
afield. 

The  pelting  grew  faster  and  more  furious ; 
every  room  was  invaded ;  we  chased  each 
other  up  and  down  the  corridors.  The  people 
in  the  court  had  their  cascarones  also,  and  the 
noise  must  have  been  heard  at  the  Mission. 
Don  Guillermo  hobbled  about  delightedly,  cov- 
ered with  tinsel  and  flour.  Estenega  had  tried 
a  dozen  times  to  hit  Chonita,  but  as  if  by  in- 
stinct she  faced  him  each  time  before  the  egg 
could  leave  his  hand.  Finally  he  pursued  her 
down  the  corridor  to  her  library,  where  I,  for- 
tunately, happened  to  be  resting,  and  both  threw 
themselves  into  chairs,  breathless. 

"Let  us  stay  here,"  he  said.  "We  have 
had  enough  of  this. " 

' '  Very  well, "  she  said.  She  bent  her  head  to 
lift  a  book  which  had  fallen  from  a  shelf,  and 
felt  the  soft  blow  of  the  cascaron. 

"At  last !  "  said  Estenega,  contentedly.      "I 


The  Doomswoman.  177 

was  determined  to  conquer,  if  I  waited  until 
morning." 

Chonita  looked  vexed  for  a  moment, — she 
did  not  like  to  be  vanquished, — then  shrugged 
her  shoulders  and  leaned  back  in  her  chair. 
The  little  room  was  plainly  furnished.  Shelves 
covered  three  sides,  and  the  window-seat  and 
the  table  were  littered  with  books.  There 
were  no  curtains,  no  ornaments  ;  but  Chonita's 
hair,  billowing  to  the  floor,  her  slender  volupt- 
uous form,  her  white  skin  and  green  irradiat- 
ing eyes,  the  candlelight  half  revealing,  half 
concealing,  made  a  picture  requiring  no  back- 
ground. I  caught  the  expression  of  Estenega's 
face,  and  determined  to  remain  if  he  murdered 
me. 

Peals  of  laughter,  joyous  shrieks,  screams  of 
mock  terror,  floated  in  to  us.  I  broke  a  silence 
which  was  growing  awkward  : 

"How  happy  they  are!  Creatures  of  air 
and  sunshine  !  Life  in  this  Arcadia  is  an  idyl." 

"They  are  not  happy,"  said  Estenega,  con- 
temptuously :  "  they  are  gay.  They  are  light 
of  heart  through  absence  of  material  cares 
and  endless  sources  of  enjoyment,  which  in 
turn  have  bred  a  careless  order  of  mind.  But 
did  each  pause  long  enough  to  look  into  his 
own  heart,  would  he  not  find  a  stone  SOme- 


178  The  Doomswoman. 

where  in  its  depths  ? — perhaps  a  skull  graven 
on  the  stone, — who  knows  ?  " 

"Oh,  Diego !  "  I  exclaimed,  impatiently, 
"this  is  a  party,  not  a  funeral." 

"Then  is  no  one  happy?"  asked  Chonita, 
wistfully. 

"  How  can  he  be,  when  in  each  moment  of 
attainment  he  is  pricked  by  the  knowledge  that 
it  must  soon  be  over  ?  The  youth  is  not  happy, 
because  the  shadow  of  the  future  is  on  him. 
The  man  is  not  happy,  because  the  knowledge 
of  life's  incompleteness  is  with  him." 

"Then  of  what  use  to  live  at  all?  " 

"  No  use.  It  is  no  use  to  die,  neither,  so  we 
.live.  I  will  grant  that  there  may  be  ten  com- 
pletely happy  moments  in  life, — the  ten  con- 
scious moments  preceding  certain  death — and 
oblivion." 

"I  will  not  discuss  the  beautiful  hope  of  our 
religion  with  you,  because  you  do  not  believe, 
and  I  should  only  get  angry.  But  what  are 
we  to  do  with  this  life  ?  You  say  nothing  is 
wrong  nor  right.  What  would  you  have  the 
stumbling  and  unanchored  do  with  what  has 
been  thrust  upon  him  ?  " 

"Man,  in  his  gropings  down  through  the 
centuries,  has  concocted,  shivered,  and  patched 
certain  social  conditions  well  enough  calcu- 


The  Doomswoman.  179 

lated  to  develop  the  best  and  the  worst  that  is 
in  us,  making  it  easier  for  us  to  be  bad  than 
good,  that  good  might  be  the  standard: (  We 
feel  a  deeper  satisfaction  if  we  have  conquered 
an  evil  impulse  and  done  what  is  accepted  as 
right,  because  we  have  groaned  and  stumbled 
in  the  doing, — that  is  all.  j^Temptation  is  sweet 
only  because  the  impulse  comes  from  the 
depths  of  our  being,  not  because  it  is  difficult  to 
be  tempted.  J  If  we  overcome,  the  satisfaction  is 
deep  and  enduring, — which  only  goes  to  show 
that  man  is  but  a  petty  egotist,  always  drawing 
pictures  of  himself  on  a  pedestal.  The  man 
who  emancipates  himself  from  traditions  and 
yields  to  his  impulses  is  debarred  from  happi- 
ness by  the  blunders  of  the  blindfolded  genera- 
tions preceding  him,  which  arranged  that  to 
yield  was  easy  and  to  resist  difficult.  Had  they 
reversed  the  conditions  and  conclusions,  the 
majority  of  the  human  race  would  have  fought 
each  other  to  death,  but  the  selected  remnant 
would  have  had  a  better  time  of  it. 

1 '  Let  us  suppose  a  case  as  conditions  now 
exist.  Assume,  for  the  sake  of  argument, 
that  you  loved  me  and  that  you  plucked  from 
your  nature  your  religion,  your  fidelity  to  your 
house,  your  love  for  your  brother,  and  gave 
yourself  to  me.  You  would  stand  appalled  at 


180  The  Doomswoman. 

the  sacrifice  until  you  realized  that  you  had 
come  to  me  only  because  it  would  have  been 
more  difficult  to  stay  away.  You  conquer  the 
passionate  cry  of  love, — the  strongest  the 
human  compound  has  ever  voiced, — and  you 
are  miserably  happy  for  the  rest  of  your  life, 
no  attitude  being  so  pleasing  to  the  soul  as  the 
attitude  of  martyrdom.  Many  a  man  and 
woman  looks  with  some  impatience  for  the 
last  good-bye  to  be  said,  so  sweet  is  the  pros- 
pect of  sadness,  of  suffering,  of  resignation. " 

I  was  aghast  at  his  audacity,  but  I  saw  that 
Chonita  was  fascinated.  Her  egotism  was 
caressed,  and  her  womanhood  thrilled.  "  Are 
we  all  such  shams  as  that  ?  "  was  what  she 
said.  ''You  make  me  despise  myself." 

"Not  yourself,  but  a  great  structure — of 
which  you  are  but  a  grain — with  a  faulty 
foundation.  Don't  despise  yourself.  Curse 
the  builders  who  shoveled  those  stones  to- 
gether. " 

He  left  her  then,  and  she  told  me  to  go  to 
bed  ;  she  wanted  to  sit  a  while  and  think. 

"He  makes  you  think  too  much,"  I  said. 
"  Better  forget  what  he  says  as  soon  as  you 
can.  He  is  a  very  disturbing  influence." 

But  she  made  me  no  reply,  and  sat  there 
staring  at  the  floor.  She  began  to  feel  a  sense 


The  Doomswoman.  181 

of  helplessness,  like  a  creature  caught  in  a  net. 
It  was  more  the  man's  personality  than  his 
words  which  made  her  feel  as  if  he  were  pour- 
ing himself  throughout  her,  taking  possession 
of  brain  and  every  sense,  as  though  he  were  a 
sort  of  intellectual  drug. 

"I  believe  I  was  made  from  his  rib,"  she 
thought,  angrily,  "else  why  can  he  have  this 
extraordinary  power  over  me  ?  I  do  not  love 
him.  I  have  read  somewhat  of  love,  and  seen 
more.  This  is  different,  quite.  I  only  feel 
that  there  is  something  in  him  that  I  want. 
Sometimes  I  feel  that  I  must  dig  my  nails  into 
him  and  tear  him  apart  until  I  find  what  I 
want, — something  that  belongs  to  me.  Some- 
times it  is  as  if  he  promised  it,  at  others  as  if 
if  he  were  unconscious  of  its  existence;  al- 
ways it  is  evanescent.  Is  he  going  to  make 
my  mind  his  own  ? — and  yet  he  always  seems 
to  leave  mine  free.  He  has  never  snubbed  me.. 
He  makes  me  think  :  there  is  the  danger." 

An  hour  later  there  was  a  tap  on  her  door. 
Casa  Grande  was  asleep.  She  sat  upright,  her 
heart  beating  rapidly.  Estenega  was  audacious 
enough  for  anything.  But  it  was  her  brother 
who  entered. 

"  Reinaldo  !  "  she  exclaimed,  horrified  to  feel 
an  unmistakable  stab  of  disappointment. 


1 82  The  Doomswoman. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I.     Art  thou  alone  ?  " 

1  'Sure." 

"I  have  something-  to  say  to  thee." 

He  drew  a  chair  close  to  her  and  sat  down. 
"  Thou  knowest,  my  sister,"  he  began,  halt- 
ingly, ''how  I  hate  the  house  of  Estenega. 
My  hatred  is  as  loyal  as  thine  :  every  drop  of 
blood  in  my  veins  is  true  to  the  honor  of  the 
house  of  Iturbi  y  Moncada.  But,  my  sister, 
is  it  not  so  that  one  can  sacrifice  himself,  his 
mere  personal  feelings,  upon  the  altar  of  his 
country  ?  Is  it  not  so,  my  sister  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  thou  wishest  me  to  understand, 
Reinaldo  ?  " 

"Do  not  look  so  stern,  my  Chonita.  Thou 
hast  not  yet  heard  me ;  and,  although  thou 
mayest  be  angry  then,  thou  wilt  reason  later. 
Thou  art  devoted  to  thy  house,  no  ? " 

"Thou  hast  come  here  in  the  night  to  ask 
me  such  a  question  as  that  ? " 

"And  thou  lovest  thy  brother  ?  " 

"  Reinaldo,  thou  hast  drunken  more  mescal 
than  Angelica.  Go  back  to  thy  bride."  But, 
although  she  spoke  lightly,  she  was  uneasy. 

"My  sister,  I  never  drank  a  drop  of  mescal 
in  my  life  !  Listen.  It  is  our  father's  wish, 
thy  wish,  my  wish,  that  I  become  a  great  and 
distinguished  man,  an  ornament  to  the  house 


The  Doomswomati.  183 

of  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  a  star  on  the  brow  of  Cal- 
ifornia. How  can  I  accomplish  this  great  and 
desirable  end  ?  By  the  medium  of  politics 
only  ;  our  wars  are  so  insignificant.  I  have 
been  debarred  from  the  Departmental  Junta  by 
the  enemy  of  our  house,  else  would  it  have 
rung  with  my  eloquence,  and  Mexico  have 
known  me  to-day.  Yet  I  care  little  for  the 
Junta.  I  wish togoasdiputado  to  Mexico;  it 
is  a  grander  arena.  Moreover,  in  that  great 
capital  I  shall  become  a  man  of  the  world, — 
which  is  necessary  to  control  men.  That  is  his 
power, — curse  him  !  And  he — he  will  not  let 
me  go  there.  Even  Alvarado  listens  to  him. 
The  Departmental  Junta  is  under  his  thumb.  I 
will  never  be  anything  but  a  caballero  of  Santa 
Barbara — I,  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada,  the  last  scion 
of  a  line  illustrious  in  war,  in  diplomacy,  in 
politics — until  he  is  either  dead — do  not  jump, 
my  sister  ;  it  is  not  my  intention  to  murder  him 
and  ruin  my  career — or  becomes  my  friend." 

"Canst  thou  not  put  thy  meaning  in  fewer 
words  ? " 

"My  sister,  he  loves  thee,  and  thou  lovest 
thy  brother  and  thy  house. " 

Chonita  rose  to  her  full  height,  and  although 
he  rose  too,  and  was  taller,  she  seemed  to  look 
down  upon  him. 


184  The  Doomswoman. 

"Thou  wouldst  have  me  marry  him?  Is 
that  thy  meaning  ?  " 

"Ay."  His  voice  trembled.  Under  his 
swagger  he  was  always  a  little  afraid  of  the 
Doomswoman. 

"Thou  askest  perjury  and  disloyalty  and 
dishonor  of  an  Iturbi  y  Moncada?  " 

"  An  Iturbi  y  Moncada  asks  it  of  an  Iturbi  y 
Moncada.  If  the  man  is  ready  to  bend  his 
neck  in  sacrifice  to  the  glory  of  his  house,  is  it 
for  the  woman  to  think  ?  " 

Chonita  stood  grasping  the  back  of  her  chair 
convulsively  ;  it  was  the  only  sign  of  emotion 
she  betrayed.  She  knew  that  what  he  said 
was  true  :  that  Estenega,  for  public  and  per- 
sonal reasons,  never  would  let  him  go  to 
Mexico  ;  he  would  permit  no  enemy  at  court. 
But  this  knowledge  drifted  through  her  mind 
and  out  of  it  at  the  moment ;  she  was  strug- 
gling to  hold  down  a  hot  wave  of  contempt  rush- 
ing upward  within  her.  She  clung  to  her  tradi- 
tions as  frantically  as  she  clung  to  her  religion. 

' '  Go, "  she  said,  after  a  moment. 

"  Thou  wilt  think  of  what  I  have  said  ?  " 

' '  I  shall  pray  to  forget  it. " 

"Chonita  !  "  his  voice  rang  out  so  loud  that 
she  placed  her  hand  on  his  mouth.  He  dashed 
it  away.  "Thou  wilt !"  he  cried,  like  a  spoilt 


The  Doomswoman.  185 

child.  "Thou  wilt  !  I  shall  go  to  the  city  of 
Mexico,  and  only  thou  canst  send  me  there. 
All  my  father's  gold  and  leagues  will  not  buy 
me  a  seat  in  the  Mexican  Congress,  unless  this 
accursed  Estenega  lifts  his  hand  and  says, 
'Thou  shalt.'  Holy  God!  how  I  hate  him! 
Would  that  I  had  the  chance  to  murder  him  !  I 
would  cut  his  heart  out  to-morrow.  And  my 
father  likes  him,  and  has  outlived  rancor.  And 
thou — thou  art  not  indifferent. " 

"Go!" 

He  threw  his  arms  about  her,  kissing  and 
caressing  her.  ' '  My  sister  !  My  sister  !  Thou 
wilt  !  Say  that  thou  wilt !  "  But  she  flung  him 
off  as  if  he  were  a  snake. 

"  Wilt  thou  go  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Ay  !  I  go.  But  he  shall  suffer.  I  swear  it  ! 
I  swear  it !  "  And  he  rushed  from  the  room. 

Chonita  sat  there,  staring  more  fixedly  at  the 
floor  than  when  Estenega  had  left  her. 


1 86  The  Doomswoman. 


XXI. 

REINALDO  did  not  go  to  his  Prudencia.  He 
went  down  to  the  booths  in  the  town  and  joined 
the  late  revelers.  Don  Guillermo,  rising  before 
dawn,  and  walking  up  and  down  the  corridor 
to  conquer  the  pangs  of  Dofia  Trinidad's  dulces, 
noticed  that  the  door  of  his  son's  room  was  ajar. 
He  paused  before  it  and  heard  slow,  regular, 
patient  sobs.  He  opened  the  door  and  went 
in.  Prudencia,  alone,  curled  up  in  a  far  corner 
of  her  bed,  the  clothes  over  her  head,  was  be- 
moaning many  things  incidental  to  matrimony. 
As  she  heard  the  sound  of  heavy  steps  she  gave 
a  little  shriek. 

"It  is  I,  Prudencia/'  said  her  uncle.  "Where 
is  Reinaldo  ?  " 

' '  I — do — not — know. " 

' '  Did  he  not  come  from  the  ball-room  with 
thee  ? " 

<  <  N-o-o-o-o. " 

"  Dost  thou  know  where  he  has  gone  ?  " 

"N-o-o-o,  senor." 

"Art  thou  afraid?" 


XJW 

. 


The  Doomswoman.  187 

"Ay  !  God— of— my— life  !  " 

' '  Never  mind, "  said  the  old  gentleman.  ' ' Go 
to  sleep.  Thy  uncle  will  protect  thee,  and 
this  will  not  happen  again. " 

He  seated  himself  by  the  bedside.  Pruden- 
cia's  sobs  ceased  gradually,  and  she  fell  asleep. 
An  hour  later  the  door  opened  softly,  andRein- 
aldo  entered.  In  spite  of  the  mescal  in  him,  his 
knees  shook  as  he  saw  the  indulgent  but  stern 
arbiter  of  the  Iturbi  y  Moncada  destinies  sitting 
in  judgment  at  the  bedside  of  his  wife. 

"Where  have  you  been,  sir?  " 

"To  take  a  walk, — to  see  to 

"No  lying!  It  makes  no  difference  where 
you  have  been.  What  I  want  to  know  is  this  : 
Is  it  your  duty  to  gallivant  about  town  ?  or  is 
your  place  at  this  hour  beside  your  wife  ?  " 

"  Here,  sefior." 

The  old  man  rose,  and,  seizing  the  bride- 
groom by  the  shoulders,  shook  him  until  his 
teeth  clattered  together.  "Then  see  that  you 
stay  here  with  her  hereafter,  or  you  shall  no 
longer  be  a  married  man."  And  he  stamped 
out  and  slammed  the  door  behind  him. 


1 88  The  Doomswomati. 


XXII. 

WE  spent  the  next  day  at  the  race-field.  Many 
of  the  caballeros  had  brought  their  finest  horses, 
and  Reinaldo's  were  famous.  The  vaqueros 
threw  off  their  black  glazed  sombreros  and 
black  velvet  jackets,  wearing  only  the  short 
black  trousers  laced  with  silver,  a  shirt  of 
dazzling  whiteness,  a  silk  handkerchief  twisted 
about  the  head,  and  huge  spurs  on  their  bare 
brown  heels.  Some  of  us  stood  on  a  platform, 
others  remained  on  their  horses  ;  all  were  wild 
with  excitement  and  screamed  themselves 
hoarse.  The  great  dark  eyes  of  the  girls  flashed, 
their  red  mouths  trembled  with  the  flood  of  eager 
exclamations ;  the  lace  mantilla  or  flowered 
reboso  fluttered  against  hot  cheeks,  to  be  torn 
off,  perhaps,  and  waved  in  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  moment.  They  forgot  the  men,  and  the 
men  forgot  them.  Even  Chonita  was  oblivious 
to  all  else  for  the  hour.  She  was  a  famous 
horsewoman,  and  keenly  alive  to  the  enchant- 
ment of  the  race-field.  The  men  bet  their 
ranches,  whole  caponeras  of  their  finest  horses, 


The  Doomswoman.  189 

herds  of  cattle,  their  saddles  and  their  jewels. 
Estenega  won  largely,  and,  as  it  happened, 
from  Reinaldo  particularly.  Don  Guillermo 
was  rather  pleased  than  otherwise,  holding  his 
son  to  be  in  need  of  further  punishment ;  but 
Reinaldo  was  obliged  to  call  upon  all  the  cour- 
tesy of  the  Spaniard  and  all  the  falseness  of  his 
nature  to  help  him  remember  that  his  enemy 
was  his  guest. 

We  went  home  to  siesta  and  long  gay  supper, 
where  the  races  were  the  only  topic  of  con- 
versation ;  then  to  dance  and  sing  and  flirt  until 
midnight,  the  people  in  the  booths  as  tireless 
as  ourselves.  Valencia's  attentions  to  Estenega 
were  as  conspicuous  as  usual,  but  he  managed 
to  devote  most  of  his  time  to  Chonita. 

*****          #          # 

That  night  Chonita  had  a  dream.  She 
dreamed  that  she  awoke  without  a  soul.  The 
sense  of  vacancy  was  awful,  yet  there  was  a 
singular  undercurrent  consciousness  that  no 
soul  ever  had  been  within  her, — that  it  existed, 
but  was  yet  to  be  found. 

She  arose,  trembling,  and  opened  her  door. 
Santa  Barbara  was  as  quiet  as  all  the  world  is 
in  the  chill  last  hours  of  night.  She  half  ex- 
pected to  see  something  hover  before  her,  a 
will-o'-the-wisp,  alluring  her  over  the  rocky 


190  The  Doomswoman. 

valleys  and  towering  mountains  until  death 
gave  her  weary  feet  rest.  She  remembered 
vaguely  that  she  had  read  legends  of  that  pur- 
port. 

But  there  was  nothing, — not  even  the  glow 
of  a  late  cigarito  or  the  flash  of  a  falling  star. 
Still  she  seemed  to  know  where  the  soul  awaited 
her.  She  closed  her  door  softly  and  walked 
swiftly  down  the  corridor,  her  bare  feet  making 
no  sound  on  the  boards.  At  a  door  on  the  op- 
posite side  she  paused,  shaking  violently,  but 
unable  to  pass  it.  She  opened  the  door  and 
went  in.  The  room,  like  all  the  others  in  that 
time  of  festivity,  had  more  occupants  than  was 
its  wont ;  a  bed  was  in  each  corner.  The  shut- 
ters and  windows  were  open,  the  moonlight 
streamed  in,  and  she  saw  that  all  were  asleep. 
She  crossed  the  room  and  looked  down  upon 
Diego  Estenega.  His  night  garment,  low 
about  the  throat,  made  his  head,  with  its  sharply- 
cut  profile,  look  like  the  heads  on  old  Roman 
medallions.  The  pallor  of  night,  the  extreme 
refinement  of  his  face,  the  deep  repose,  gave 
him  an  unmortal  appearance.  Chonita  bent 
over  him  fearfully.  Was  he  dead  ?  His  breath- 
ing was  regular,  but  very  quiet.  She  stood 
gazing  down  upon  him,  the  instinct  of  seeking 
vanished.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Was  this  her 


The  Doomswoman.  .  191 

soul  !  A  man  ?  How  could  it  be  ?  Even  in 
poetry  she  had  never  read  of  a  man  being  a 
woman's  soul, — a  man  with  all  his  frailties  and 
sins,  for  the  most  part  unrepented.  She  felt, 
rather  than  knew,  that  Estenega  had  trampled 
many  laws,  and  that  he  cared  too  little  for  any 
law  but  his  own  will  to  repent.  And  yet,  there 
he  lay,  looking,  in  the  gray  light  and  the  im- 
personality of  sleep,  as  sinless  as  if  he  had  been 
created  within  the  hour.  He  looked  not  like  a 
man  but  a  spirit, — a  soul ;  and  the  soul  was  hers. 

Again  she  asked  herself,  what  did  it  mean  ? 
Was  the  soul  but  brain  ?  She  and  he  were  so 
alike  in  rudiments,  yet  he  so  immeasurably 
beyond  her  in  experience  and  knowledge  and 
the  stronger  fiber  of  a  man's  mind 

He  awoke  suddenly  and  saw  her.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  stared  incredulously,  then  raised  him- 
self on  his  hand. 

"  Chonita  !  "  he  whispered. 

But  Chonita,  with  the  long  glide  of  the  Cali- 
fornian  woman,  faded  from  the  room. 

When  she  awoke  the  next  morning  she  was 
assailed  by  a  distressing  fear.  Had  she  been 
to  Estenega's  room  the  night  before  ?  The 
memory  was  too  vivid,  the  details  too  prac- 
tical, for  a  sleep-vagary.  At  breakfast  she 
hardly  dared  to  raise  her  eyes.  She  felt  that 


192  The  Doomswoman. 

he  was  watching  her  ;  but  he  often  watched 
her.  After  breakfast  they  were  alone  at  one 
end  of  the  corridor  for  a  moment,  and  she  com- 
pelled herself  to  raise  her  eyes  and  look  at  him 
steadily.  He  was  regarding  her  searchingly. 

She  was  not  a  woman  to  endure  uncertainty. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  cried,  trembling  from  head 
to  foot,  the  blood  rushing  over  her  face,  "did 
I  go  to  your  room  last  night  ?  " 

"  Dona  Chonita  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  What 
an  extraordinary  question  !  You  have  been 
dreaming. " 


The  Dooms-woman.  193 


XXIII. 

WE  went  to  a  bull-fight  that  day,  danced  that 
night,  meriendaed  and  danced  again  ;  a  siesta 
in  the  afternoon,  a  few  hours'  sleep  in  the  night, 
refreshing  us  all.  Chonita,  alone,  looked  pale, 
but  I  knew  that  her  pallor  was  not  due  to 
weariness.  And  I  knew  that  she  was  begin- 
ning to  fear  Estenega  ;  the  time  was  almost 
come  when  she  would  fear  herself"  more.  Es- 
tenega had  several  talks  apart  with  her.  He 
managed  it  without  any  apparent  maneuvering; 
but  he  always  had  the  devil's  methods.  Va- 
lencia avenged  herself  by  flirting  desperately 
with  Reinaldo,  and  Prudencia's  honeymoon 
was  seasoned  with  gall. 

On  Saturday  night  Chonita  stole  from  her 
guests,  donned  a  black  gown  and  reboso,  and, 
attended  by  two  Indian  servants,  went  up  to  the 
Mission  to  confession.  As  she  left  the  church 
a  half-hour  later,  and  came  down  the  steps, 
Estenega  rose  from  a  bench  beneath  the  arches 
of  the  corridor  and  joined  her. 

''How  did  you  know  that  I  came?  "she 
'3 


194  The  Doomswoman. 

asked  ;  and  it  was  not  the  stars  that  lit  her 
face. 

''You  do  little  that  I  do  not  know.  Have 
you  been  to  confession  ?  " 

"Yes." 

They  walked  slowly  down  the  valley. 

"And  you  forgave  and  were  forgiven  ? " 

"  Yes.     Ay  !  but  my  penance  is  heavy  !  " 

"  But  when  it  is  done  you  will  be  at  rest,  I 
suppose." 

"Oh,  I  hope!  I  hope!  " 

' '  Have  you  begun  to  realize  that  your  Church 
cannot  satisfy  you  ?  " 

"No  !  I  will  not  say  that." 

"  But  you  know  it.  Your  intelligence  has 
opened  a  window  somewhere  and  the  truth  has 
crept  in. " 

"  Do  not  take  my  religion  from  me,  senor  !  " 
Her  eyes  and  voice  appealed  to  him,  and  he 
accepted  her  first  confession  of  weakness  with 
a  throb  of  exulting  tenderness. 

"  My  love  !  "  he  said,  "I  would  give  you 
more  than  I  took  from  you. " 

"  No  !  never  ! — Even  if  we  were  not  enemies, 
and  I  had  not  made  that  terrible  vow,  my  re- 
ligion has  been  all  in  all  to  me.  Just  now  I 
have  many  things  that  torment  me  ;  and  I  have 
asked  so  little  of  religion  before — my  life  has 


The  Doomswoman.  195 

been  so  calm — that  now  I  hardly  know  how  to 
ask  for  so  much  more.  I  shall  learn.  Leave 
me  in  peace." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  go?  "  he  asked.  "  If 
you  did, — if  I  troubled  you  by  staying  here, 
— I  believe  I  would  go.  Only  I  know  it 
would  do  no  good  :  I  should  come  back." 

"  No  !  no  !  I  do  not  want  you  to  go.  I 
should  feel — I  will  admit  to  you — like  a  house 
without  its  foundation.  And  yet  sometimes,  I 
pray  that  you  will  go.  Ay  1  I  do  not  like  life. 
I  used  to  have  pride  in  my  intelligence.  Where 
is  my  pride  now  ?  What  good  has  the  wisdom 
in  my  books  done  me,  when  I  confess  my  de- 
pendence upon  a  man,  and  that  man  my  ene- 
my— and  the  acquaintance  of  a  few  weeks  ?  " 
She  was  speaking  incoherently,  and  Estenega 
chafed  at  the  restraint  of  the  servants  so  close 
behind  them.  "Tell  me,"  she  exclaimed, 
"what  is  it  in  you  that  I  want  ? — that  I  need  ? 
It  is  something  that  belongs  to  me.  Give  it  to 
me,  and  go  away." 

"  Chonita,  I  give  it  to  you  gladly,  God 
knows.  But  you  must  take  me,  too.  You 
want  in  me  what  is  akin  to  you  and  what  you 
will  find  nowhere  else.  But  I  cannot  tear  my 
soul  out  of  my  body.  You  must  take  both  or 
neither. " 


196  The  Doomswoman. 

"  Ay  !   I  cannot  !  You  know  that  I  cannot  !  " 

"  I  ignore  your  reasons." 

"  But  I  do  not." 

"  You  shall,  my  beloved.  Or  if  you  do  not 
ignore  you  shall  forget  them." 

"  When  I  am  dead — would  that  I  were  !  " 
She  was  excited  and  trembling.  The  confes- 
sion had  been  an  ordeal,  and  Estenega  was 
never  tranquillizing.  She  wished  to  cling  to 
him,  but  was  still  mistress  of  herself.  He 
divined  her  impulse,  and  drew  her  arm  through 
his  and  across  his  breast.  He  opened  her  hand 
and  pressed  his  lips  to  the  palm.  Then  he 
bent  his  face  above  hers.  She  was  trembling 
violently  ;  her  face  was  wild  and  white.  His 
own  was  ashen,  and  the  heart  beneath  her 
arm  beat  rapidly. 

"  I  love  you  devotedly,"  he  said.  "  You 
believe  that,  Chonita  ?  " 

"Ah!  Mother  of  God!  do  not!  I  cannot 
listen." 

"  But  you  shall  listen.  Throw  off  your  su- 
perstitions and  come  to  me.  Keep  the  part  of 
your  religion  that  is  not  superstition  ;  I  would 
be  the  last  to  take  it  from  you  ;  but  I  will  not 
permit  its  petty  dogmas  to  stand  between  us. 
As  for  your  traditions,  you  have  not  even  the 
excuse  of  filial  duty ;  your  father  would  not 


The  Doomswoman.  197 

forbid  you  to  become  my  wife.  And  I  love 
you  very  earnestly  and  passionately.  Just 
how  much,  I  might  convey  to  you  if  we  were 
alone." 

He  was  obliged  to  exercise  great  self-re- 
straint, but  there  was  no  mistaking  his  serious- 
ness. When  such  scientific  triflers  do  find  a 
woman  worth  loving,  they  are  too  deeply  sen- 
sible of  the  fact  not  to  be  stirred  to  their  depths  ; 
and  their  depths  are  apt  to  be  in  large  dispro- 
portion to  the  lightness  of  their  ordinary  mood. 
11  Come  to  me,"  he  continued.  "  I  need  you ; 
and  I  will  be  as  tender  and  thoughtful  a  hus- 
band as  I  will  be  ardent  as  a  lover.  You  love 
me  :  don't  blind  yourself  any  longer.  Do  you 
picture,  in  a  life  of  solitude  and  cold  devotion 
to  phantoms,  any  happiness  equal  to  what  you 
would  find  here  in  my  arms  ?  " 

"  Oh,  hush  !  hush  !  You  could  make  me  do 
what  you  wished.  I  have  no  will.  I  feel  no 
longer  myself.  What  is  this  terrible  power  ?  " 

11  It  is  the  magnetism  of  love  ;  that  is  all.  I 
am  not  exercising  any  diabolical  power  over 
you.  Listen  :  I  will  not  trouble  you  any  more 
now.  I  am  obliged  to  go  to  Los  Angeles  the 
day  after  to-morrow,  and  on  my  way  back  to 
Monterey — in  about  .two  weeks — I  shall  come 
here  again.  Then  we  will  talk  together  ;  but 


198  The  Doomswoman. 

I  warn  you,   I  will  accept   only  one  answer. 
You  are  mine,  and  I  shall  have  you." 

They  reached  Casa  Grande  a  moment  later, 
and  she  escaped  from  him  and  ran  to  her  room. 
But  she  dared  not  remain  alone.  Hastily 
changing  her  black  gown  for  the  first  her  hand 
touched, — it  happened  to  be  vivid  red  and 
made  her  look  as  white  as  wax, — she  returned 
to  the  sala ;  not  to  dance  even  the  square  con- 
tradanza,  but  to  stand  surrounded  by  worship- 
ing caballeros  with  curling  hair  tied  with  gay 
ribbons,  and  jewels  in  their  laces.  Valencia 
regarded  her  with  a  bitter  jealousy  that  was 
rising  from  red  heat  to  white.  How  dared  a 
woman  with  hair  of  gold  wear  the  color  of  the 
brunette?  It  was  a  theft.  It  was  the  last 
indignity.  And  once  more  she  chained  Rei- 
naldo,  in  default  of  Estenega,  to  her  side.  And 
deep  in  Prudencia's  heart  wove  a  scheme  of 
vengeance  ;  the  loom  and  warp  had  been  pre- 
sented unwittingly  by  her  chivalrous  father-in- 
law. 

Estenega  remained  in  the  sala  a  few  mo- 
ments after  Chonita's  reappearance,  then  left 
the  house  and  wandered  through  the  booth  in 
the  court,  where  the  people  were  dancing  and 
singing*  and  eating  and  gambling  as  if  with  the 
morrow  an  eternal  Lent  would  come,  and 


The  Doomswoman.  199 

thence  through  the  silent  town  to  the  pleasure- 
grounds  of  Casa  Grande,  which  lay  about  half 
a  mile  from  the  house.  He  had  been  there 
but  a  short  while  when  he  heard  a  rustle,  a 
light  footfall ;  and,  turning,  he  saw  Chonita, 
unattended,  her  bare  neck  and  gold  hair  gleam- 
ing against  the  dark,  her  train  dragging.  She 
was  advancing  swiftly  toward  him.  His  pulses 
bounded,  and  he  sprang  toward  her,  his  arms 
outstretched  ;  but  she  waved  him  back. 

"Have  mercy,"  she  said.  "I  am  alone.  I 
brought  no  one,  because  I  have  that  to  tell  you 
which  no  one  else  must  hear." 

He  stepped  back  and  looked  at  the  ground. 

"  Listen,"  she  said.  "  I  could  not  wait  un- 
til to-morrow,  because  a  moment  lost  might 
mean — might  mean  the  ruin  of  your  career,  and 
you  say  your  envoy  has  not  gone  yet.  Just 
now — I  will  tell  you  the  other  first.  Mother  of 
God !  that  I  should  betray  my  brother  to  my 
enemy  !  But  it  seems  to  me  right,  because 
you  placed  your  confidence  in  me,  and  I  should 
feel  that  I  betrayed  you  if  I  did  not  warn  you. 
I  do  not  know — oh,  Mary  ! — I  do  not  know — 
but  this  seems  to  me  right  The  other  night 
my  brother  came  to  me  and  asked  me — ay  ! 
do  not  look  at  me — to  marry  you,  that  you 
would  balk  his  ambition  no  further.  He 


200  The  Doomswoman. 

wishes  to  go  as  diputado  to  Mexico,  and  he 
knows  that  you  will  not  let  him.  I  thought  my 
brain  would  crack, — an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  ! — 
I  made  him  no  answer, — there  was  no  answer 
to  a  demand  like  that, — and  he  went  from  me 
in  a  fury,  vowing  vengeance  upon  you.  To- 
night, a  few  moments  ago,  he  whispered  to 
me  that  he  knew  of  your  plans,  your  intentions 
regarding  the  Americans  :  he  had  overheard  a 
conversation  between  you  and  Alvarado.  He 
says  that  he  will  send  letters  to  Mexico  to-mor- 
row, warning  the  government  against  you. 
Then  their  suspicions  will  be  roused,  and  they 
will  inquire — Ay,  Mary  !  " 

Estenega  brought  his  teeth  together. 
"God!"  he  exclaimed. 

She  saw  that  he  had  forgotten  her.  She 
turned  and  went  back  more  swiftly  than  she 
had  come. 

Estenega  was  a  man  whose  resources  never 
failed  him.  He  returned  to  the  house  and 
asked  Reinaldo  to  smoke  a  cigarito  and  drink 
a  bottle  of  wine  in  his  room.  Then,  without  a 
promise  or  a  compromising  word,  he  so  flattered 
that  shallow  youth,  so  allured  his  ambition  and 
pampered  his  vanity  and  watered  his  hopes, 
that  fear  and  hatred  wondered  at  their  exist- 
ence, closed  their  eyes,  and  went  to  sleep. 


The  Doomsivoman.  201 

Reinaldo  poured  forth  his  aspirations,  which 
under  the  influence  of  the  truth-provoking  vine 
proved  to  be  an  honest  yearning  for  the  pleas- 
ures of  Mexico.  As  he  rose  to  go  he  threw  his 
arm  about  Estenega's  neck. 

"Ay!  my  friend!  my  friend!  "he  cried, 
"  thou  art  all-powerful.  Thou  alone  canst 
give  me  what  I  want." 

"Why  did  you  never  ask  me  for  what  you 
wanted  ?  "  asked  Estenega.  And  he  thought, 
"  If  it  were  not  for  Her,  you  would  be  on  your 
way  to  Los  Angeles  to-night  under  charge  of 
high  treason.  I  would  not  have  taken  this 
much  trouble  with  you." 


202  The  Doomswoman. 


XXIV. 

A  RODEO  was  held  the  next  day, — the  last  of 
the  festivities  ; — Don  Guillermo  taking-  advan- 
tage of  the  gathering  of  the  rancheros.  It  was 
to  take  place  on  the  Cerros  Rancho,  which  ad- 
joined the  Rancho  de  las  Rocas.  We  went 
early,  most  of  us  dismounting  and  taking  to 
the  platform  on  one  side  of  the  circular  rodeo- 
ground.  The  vaqueros  were  already  galloping 
over  the  hills,  shouting  and  screaming  to  the 
cattle,  who  ran  to  them  like  dogs  ;  soon  a  herd 
came  rushing  down  into  the  circle,  where  they 
were  thrown  down  and  branded,  the  stray  cat- 
tle belonging  to  neighbors  separated  and  cor- 
ralled. This  happened  again  and  again,  the 
interest  and  excitement  growing  with  each 
round-up. 

Once  a  bull,  seeing  his  chance,  darted  from 
his  herd  and  down  the  valley.  A  vaquero 
started  after  him  ;  but  Reinaldo,  anxious  to 
display  his  skill  in  horsemanship,  and  being 
still  mounted,  called  to  the  vaquero  to  stop, 
dashed  after  the  animal,  caught  it  by  its  tail, 
spurred  his  horse  ahead,  let  go  the  tail  at  the 


The  Doomswoman.  203 

right  moment,  and,  amidst  shouts  of  "Coliar  !  " 
"  Coliar  !  "  the  bull  was  ignominiously  rolled  in 
the  dust,  then  meekly  preceded  Reinaldo  back 
to  the  rodeo-ground. 

After  the  dinner  under  the  trees  most  of  the 
party  returned  to  the  platform,  but  Estenega, 
Adan,  Chonita,  Valencia,  and  myself  strolled 
about  the  rancho.  Adan  walked  at  Chonita's 
side,  more  faithful  than  her  shadow.  Valencia's 
black  eyes  flashed  their  language  so  plainly  to 
Estenega's  that  he  could  not  have  deserted  her 
without  rudeness  ;  and  Estenega  never  was 
rude. 

''Adan,"  said  Chonita,  abruptly,  "I  am  tired 
of  thee.  Sit  down  under  that  tree  until  I  come 
back.  I  wish  to  walk  alone  with  Eustaquia  for 
a  while." 

Adan  sighed  and  did  as  he  was  bidden,  con- 
soling himself  with  a  cigarito.  Taking  a  differ- 
ent path  from  the  one  the  others  followed,  we 
walked  some  distance,  talking  of  ordinary  mat- 
ters, both  avoiding  the  subject  of  Diego  Este- 
nega by  common  consent.  And  yet  I  was 
convinced  that  she  carried  on  a  substratum  of 
thought  of  which  he  was  the  subject,  even 
while  she  talked  coherently  to  me.  On  our 
way  back  the  conversation  died  for  want  of 
bone  and  muscle,  and,  as  it  happened,  we  were 


204  The  Doomswoman. 

both  silent  as  we  approached  a  small  adobe 
hut.  As  we  turned  the  corner  we  came  upon 
Estenega  and  Valencia.  He  had  just  bent  his 
head  and  kissed  her. 

Valencia  fled  like  a  hare.  Estenega  turned 
the  hue  of  chalk,  and  I  knew  that  blue  light- 
ning was  flashing  in  his  disconcerted  brain.  I 
felt  the  chill  of  Chonita  as  she  lifted  herself  to 
the  rigidity  of  a  statue  and  swept  slowly  down 
the  path. 

''Diego,  you  are  a  fool !  "  I  exclaimed,  when 
she  was  out  of  hearing. 

"You  need  not  tell  me  that,"  he  said, 

savagely.  "But  what  in  heaven's  name 

Well,  never  mind.  For  God's  sake  straighten 
it  out  with  her.  Tell  her — explain  to  her — 
what  men  are.  Tell  her  that  the  present 
woman  is.omnipotently  present — no,  don't  tell 
her  that.  (^Tell  her  that  history  is  full  of  instan- 
ces of  men  who  have  given  one  woman  the 
devoted  love  of  a  lifetime  and  been  unfaithful 
to  her  every  week  in  the  year.J  (.Explain  to  her 
that  a  man  to  love  one  woman  must  love  all 
women.  ;•  And  she  has  sufficient  proof  that  I 
love  her  and  no  other  woman  :  I  want  to 
marry  her,  not  Valencia  Menendez.  Heaven 
knows  I  will  be  true  to  her  when  I  have  her. 
I  could  not  be  otherwise.  But  I  need  not  ex- 


The  Doomswoman.  205 

plain  to  you.  Set  it  right  with  her.  She  has 
brain,  and  can  be  made  to  understand." 

I  shook  my  head.  ' '  You  cannot  reason  with 
inexperience  ;  and  when  it  is  allied  to  jealousy 
— God  of  my  soul  !  Her  ideal,  of  course,  is 
perfection,  and  does  not  take  human  weakness 
into  account.  You  have  fallen  short  of  it  to- 
day. I  fear  your  cause  is  lost." 

"It  is  not  !  Do  you  think  I  will  give  her  up 
for  a  trifle  like  that  ?  " 

"  But  why  not  accept  this  break  ?  You  can- 
not marry  her — 

"Oh,  do  not  refer  to  that  nonsense!"  he 
exclaimed,  harshly.  "  I  shall  peel  off  her  tra- 
ditions when  the  time  comes,  as  I  would  strip 
off  the  outer  hulls  of  a  nut.  Go  !  Go,  Eusta- 
quia  !  " 

Of  course  I  went.  Chonita  was  not  at  the 
rodeo-ground,  but,  escorted  by  her  father,  had 
gone  home.  I  followed  immediately,  and  when 
I  reached  Casa  Grande  I  found  her  sitting  in 
her  library.  I  never  saw  a  statue  look  more 
like  marble.  Her  face  was  locked  :  only  the 
eyes  betrayed  the  soul  in  torment.  But  she 
looked  as  immutable  as  a  fate. 

"Chonita,"  I  exclaimed,  hardly  knowing 
where  to  begin,  "be  reasonable.  Men  of 
Estenega's  brain  and  passionate  affectionate 


206  The  Doomswoman. 

nature  are  always  weak  with  women,  but  it 
means  nothing.  He  cares  nothing  for  Valencia 
Menendez.  He  is  madly  in  love  with  you. 
And  his  weakness,  my  dear,  springs  from  the 
same  source  as  his  charm.  He  would  not 
be  the  man  he  is  without  it.  His  heart  would 
be  less  kindly,  his  impulses  less  generous,  his 
brain  less  virile,  his  sympathies  less  instinctive 
and  true.  The  strong  impregnable  man,  the 
man  whom  no  vice  tempts,  no  weakness  assails, 
who  is  loyal  without  effort, — such  a  man  lacks 
breadth  and  magnetism  and  the  power  to  read 
the  human  heart  and  sympathize  with  both  its 
noble  impulses  and  its  terrible  weaknesses.  Such 
men — I  never  have  known  it  to  fail — are  full  of 
petty  vanities  and  egoisms  and  contemptible 
weaknesses,  the  like  of  which  Estenega  could 
not  be  capable  of.  No  man  can  be  perfect, 
and  it  is  the  man  of  great  strength  and  great 
weakness  who  alone  understands  and  sympa- 
thizes with  human  nature,  who  is  lovable  and 
magnetic,  and  who  has  the  power  to  rouse  the 
highest  as  well  as  the  most  passionate  love  of 
a  woman.  Such  men  cause  infinite  suffering, 
but  they  can  give  a  happiness  that  makes  the 
suffering  worth  while.  You  never  will  meet 
another  man  like  Diego  Estenega.  Do  not  cast 
him  lightly  aside." 


27ie  Doomswoman.  207 

"Do  I  understand,"  said  Chonita,  in  a  per- 
fectly unmoved  voice,  "  that  you  are  counsel- 
ing me  to  marry  an  Estenega  and  the  man  who 
would  send  me  to  Hell  hereafter  ?  Do  you  for- 
get my  vow  ?  " 

I  came  to  myself  with  a  shock.  In  the 
enthusiasm  of  my  defense  I  had  forgotten  the 
situation. 

"At  least  forgive  him,"  I  said,  lamely. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive,"  she  said.  "He 
is  nothing  to  me." 

I  knew  that  it  was  useless  to  argue  with  her. 

"I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you,"  she  said. 
"  Most  of  our  guests  leave  this  afternoon  :  will 
you  let  me  sleep  alone  to-night  ?  " 

I  should  have  liked  to  put  my  arm  about  her 
and  give  her  a  woman's  sympathy,  but  I  did 
not  dare.  All  I  could  do  was  to  leave  her 
alone. 


208  The  Doomswoman. 


XXV. 

CASA  GRANDE  held  three  jealous  women.  The 
situation  had  its  comic  aspect,  but  was  tragic 
enough  to  the  actors. 

In  the  evening  the  lingering  guests  of  the 
house  and  the  neighbors  of  the  town  assembled 
as  usual  for  the  dance.  Only  Estenega  ab- 
sented himself.  Valencia  stood  her  ground  : 
she  would  not  go  while  Estenega  remained. 
Chonita  moved  proudly  among  her  guests,  and 
never  had  been  more  gracious.  Valencia  dared 
not  meet  her  eyes  nor  mine,  but,  seeing  that 
Prudencia  was  watching  her,  avenged  her 
own  disquiet  by  enhancing  that  of  the  bride. 
Never  did  she  flirt  so  imperiously  with  Reinaldo 
as  she  did  that  fateful  night  ;  and  Reinaldo, 
who  was  man's  vanity  collected  and  com- 
pounded, devoted  himself  to  the  dashing  beauty. 
Her  cheeks  burned  with  excitement,  her  eyes 
were  restless  and  flashing. 

The  music  stopped.  The  women  were 
eating  the  dulces  passed  by  the  Indian  servants. 
The  men  had  not  yet  gone  into  the  dining- 


' 

OF  T 

TJNIVERSITY 


The  Doomswoman.  209 

room.  Valencia  dropped  her  handkerchief; 
Reinaldo,  stooping  to  recover  it,  kissed  her 
hand  behind  its  flimsy  shelter. 

Then  Prudencia  arose.  She  trailed  her  long 
gown  down  the  room  between  the  two  rows  of 
people  staring  at  her  grim  eyes  and  pressed  lips  ; 
her  little  head,  with  its  high  comb,  stiffly  erect. 
She  walked  straight  up  to  Reinaldo  and  boxed 
his  ears  before  the  assembled  company. 

"  Thou  wilt  flirt  no  more  with  other  women," 
she  said,  in  a  loud,  clear  voice.  "Thou  art 
my  husband,  and  thou  wilt  not  forget  it  again. 
Come  with  me. " 

And,  amidst  the  silence  of  mountain-tops  in 
a  snow-storm,  he  stumbled  to  his  feet  and  fol- 
lowed her  from  the  room. 

I  could  not  sleep  that  night.  In  spite  of  the 
amusement  I  had  felt  at  Prudencia's  coup-detat, 
I  was  oppressed  by  the  chill  and  foreboding 
which  seemed  to  emanate  from  Chonita  and 
pervade  the  house.  I  knew  that  terrible  calm 
was  like  the  menacing  stillness  of  the  hours 
before  an  earthquake.  What  would  she  do  in 
the  coming  convulsion  ?  I  shuddered  and 
tormented  myself  with  many  imaginings. 

I  became  so  nervous  that  I  rose  and  dressed 
and  went  out  upon  the  corridor  and  walked  up 
H 


2io  The  Doomswoman. 

and  down.  It  was  very  late,  and  the  moon  was 
risen,  but  the  corners  were  dark.  Figures 
seemed  to  start  from  them,  but  my  nerves  were 
strong  ;  I  never  had  given  way  to  fear. 

My  thoughts  wandered  to  Estenega.  Who 
shall  judge  the  complex  heart  of  a  man?  the 
deep,  intense,  lasting  devotion  he  may  have  for 
the  one  woman  he  recognizes  as  his  soul's 
own,  and  yet  the  strange  wayward  wanderings 
of  his  fancy, — the  nomadic  assertion  of  the 
animal ;  the  passionate  love  he  may  feel  for 
this  woman  of  all  women,  yet  the  reserve  in 
which  he  always  holds  her,  never  knowing  her 
quite  as  well  as  he  has  known  other  women ; 
the  last  test  of  highest  love,  passion  without 
sensuality?  And  yet  the  regret  that  she  does 
not  gratify  every  side  of  his  nature,  even  while 
he  would  not  have  her ;  regret  for  the  terrible 
incongruity  of  human  nature,  the  mingling  of 
the  beast  and  the  divine,  which  cannot  find 
satisfaction  in  the  same  woman  ;  whatever  the 
fire  in  her,  she  cannot  gratify  the  instincts 
which  rage  below  passion  in  man,  without 
losing  the  purity  of  mind  which  he  adores  in 
her.  j  She,  too,  feels  a  vague  regret  that  some 
portion  of  his  nature  is  a  sealed  book  to  her, 
forever  beyond  her  ken.  But  her  regret  is  noth- 
ing to  his :  he  knows,  and  she  does  not. 


The  Doomswoman.  211 

My  meditations  were  interrupted  suddenly. 
I  heard  a  door  stealthily  opened.  I  knew  be- 
fore turning  that  the  door  was  that  of  Chonita's 
room,  the  last  at  the  end  of  the  right  wing.  It 
opened,  and  she  came  out.  It  was  as  if  a  face 
alone  came  out.  She  was  shrouded  from  head 
to  foot  in  black,  and  her  face  was  as  white  as 
the  moon.  Possessed  by  a  nameless  but  over- 
whelming fear,  I  turned  the  knob  of  the  door 
nearest  me  and  almost  fell  into  the  room.  I 
closed  the  door  behind  me,  but  there  was  no 
key.  By  the  strip  of  white  light  which  entered 
through  the  crevice  between  the  half-open 
shutters  I  saw  that  I  was  in  the  room  of  Valen- 
cia Menendez  ;  but  she  slept  soundly  and  had 
not  heard  me. 

1  I  stood  still,  listening,  for  many  minutes. 
At  first  there  was  no  sound  ;  I  evidently  had 
startled  her,  and  she  was  waiting  for  the  house 
to  be  still  again.  At  last  I  heard  some  one 
gliding  down  the  corridor.  Then,  suddenly,  I 
knew  that  she  was  coming  to  this  room,  and, 
possessed  by  a  horrible  curiosity  and  growing 
terror,  I  sank  on  my  knees  in  a  corner. 

The  door  opened  noiselessly,  and  Chonita 
entered.  Again  I  saw  only  her  white  face, 
rigid  as  death,  but  the  eyes  flamed  with  the 
terrible  passions  that  her  soul  had  flung  up 


212  The  Doomswoman. 

from  its  depths  at  last.  Then  I  saw  another 
white  object, — her  hand.  But  there  was  no 
knife  in  it.  Had  there  been,  I  think  I  should 
have  shaken  off  the  spell  which  controlled  me  : 
I  never  would  see  murder  done.  It  was  the 
awe  of  the  unknown  that  paralyzed  my  muscles. 
She  bent  over  Valencia,  who  moved  uneasily 
and  cast  her  arms  above  her  head.  I  saw  her 
touch  her  ringer  to  the  sleeping-  woman's  mouth, 
inserting  it  between  the  lips.  Then  she  moved 
backward  and  stood  by  the  head  of  the  bed, 
facing  the  window.  She  raised  herself  to  her 
full  height  and  extended  her  arms  horizontally. 
The  position  gave  her  the  form  of  a  cross — a 
black  cross,  topped  and  pointed  with  malevolent 
white  ;  one  hand  was  spread  above  Valencia's 
face.  She  was  the  most  awful  sight  I  ever 
beheld.  She  uttered  no  sound  ;  she  scarcely 
breathed.  Suddenly,  with  the  curve  of  a  pan- 
ther, her  figure  glided  above  the  unconscious 
woman,  her  open  hand  describing  a  strange 
motion  ;  then  she  melted  from  the  room. 

Valencia  awoke,  shrieking. 

"Some  one  has  cursed  me!"  she  cried. 
"  Mother  of  God  !  Some  one  has  cursed  me  !  " 

I  fled  from  the  room,  to  faint  upon  my  own 
bed. 


The  JJoomswoman.  213 


XXVI. 

THE  next  morning-  Casa  Grande  was  thrown 
into  consternation.  Valencia  Menendez  was 
in  a  raging  fever,  and  had  to  be  held  in  her  bed. 

After  breakfast  I  sent  for  Estenega  and  told 
him  of  what  I  had  seen.  In  the  first  place  I 
had  to  tell  some  one,  and  in  the  second  I 
thought  to  end  his  infatuation  and  avert  further 
trouble.  "You  firebrand!"  I  exclaimed,  in 
conclusion.  "You  see  the  mischief  you  have 
worked  !  You  will  go,  now,  thank  heaven — 
and  go  cured. " 

"I  will  go, — for  a  time,"  he  said.  "This 
mood  of  hers  must  wear  itself  out.  But,  if  I 
loved  her  before,  I  worship  her  now.  She  is 
magnificent !— a  woman  with  the  passions  of 
hell  and  the  sweetness  of  an  angel.  She  is  the 
woman  I  have  waited  for  all  my  life, — the  only 
woman  I  have  ever  known.  Some  day  I  will 
take  her  in  my  arms  and  tell  her  that  I  under- 
stand her." 

"Diego,"  I  said,  divided  between  despair 
and  curiosity,  ' '  you  have  fancied  many  women  : 


2i4  The  Doomswoman. 

wherein  does  your  feeling  for  Chonita  differ  ? 
How  can  you  be  sure  that  this  is  love  ?  What 
is  your  idea  of  love  ?  " 

He  sat  down  and  was  silent  for  a  momen^ 
then  spoke  thoughtfully  :  f"  Love  is  not  pas- 
sion, for  one  may  feel  that  for  many  women  ; 
not  affection,  for  friendship  demands  that.  Not 
even  sympathy  and  comradeship  ;  one  can  find 
either  with  men.  J  Nor  all,  for  I  have  felt  all, 
yet  something  was  lacking.  \L°ve  is  the  mys- 
terious turning  of  one  heart  to  another  with 
the  promise  of  a  magnetic  harmony,  a  strange 
original  delight,  a  deep  satisfaction,  a  surety  of 
permanence,  which  did  either  heart  roam  the 
world  it  never  would  find  again.  It  is  the 
knowledge  that  did  the  living  body  turn  to  cor- 
ruption, the  spirit  within  would  still  hold  and 
sway  the  steel  which  had  rushed  unerringly  to 
its  magnet.  It  is  the  knowledge  that  weakness 
will  only  arouse  tenderness,  never  disgust,  as 
when  the  fancy  reigns  and  the  heart  sleeps  ; 
that  faults  will  clothe  themselves  in  the  individ- 
uality of  the  owner  and  become  treasures  to 
the  loving  mind  that  sees,  but  worships.  It  is 
the  development  of  the  highest  form  of  selfish- 
ness, the  passionate  and  abiding  desire  to  sac- 
rifice one's  self  to  the  happiness  of  one  beloved. 
Above  all,  it  is  the  impossibility  to  cease  to 


The  Doomswoman.  215 

love,  no  matter  what  reason/  or  prudence,  or 
jealousy,  or  disapproval,  or  terrible  discoveries, 
may  dictate.  Let  the  mind  sit  on  high  and 
argue  the  soul's  mate  out  of  doors,  it  will  re- 
bound, when  all  is  said  and  done,  like  a  rubber 
ball  when  the  pressure  of  the  finger  is  removed. 
As  for  Chonita  she  is  the  lost  part  of  mey 

He  left  that  day,  and  without  seeing  Chonita 
again.  Valencia  was  in  wildest  delirium  for  a 
week  ;  at  the  end  of  the  second  every  hair 
on  her  head,  her  brows,  and  her  eyelashes  had 
fallen.  She  looked  like  a  white  mummy,  a 
ghastly  pitiful  caricature  of  the  beautiful  woman 
whose  arrows  quivered  in  so  many  hearts. 
They  rolled  her  in  a  blanket  and  took  her  home  ; 
and  then  I  sought  Chonita,  who  had  barely  left 
her  room  and  never  gone  to  Valencia's.  I  told 
her  that  I  had  witnessed  the  curse,  and  de- 
scribed the  result. 

"  Have  you  no  remorse?  "  I  asked. 

"None." 

"You  have  ruined  the  beauty,  the  happi- 
ness, the  fortune,  of  another  woman. " 

"I  have  done  what  I  intended." 

"Do  you  realize  that  again  you  have  raised 
a  barrier  between  yourself  and  your/eligion  ? 
You  do  not  look  very  repentant." 

"Revenge  is  sweeter  than  religion." 


216  The  Doomswoman. 

Then  in  a  burst  of  anger  I  confessed  that  I 
had  told  Estenega.  For  a  moment  I  thought 
her  terrible  hatred  was  about  to  hurl  its  ven- 
geance at  me  ;  but  she  only  asked, — 

"What  did  he  say?" 

Unwillingly,  I  repeated  it,  but  word  for  word. 
And  as  I  spoke,  her  face  softened,  the  austerity 
left  her  features,  an  expression  of  passionate 
gratitude  came  into  her  eyes. 

"Did  he  say  that,  Eustaquia  ?  ' 

"He  did." 

"Say  it  again,  please." 

I  did  so.  And  then  she  put  her  hands  to  her 
face,  and  cried,  and  cried,  and  cried. 


The  Doomswoman.  217 


XXVII. 

AT  the  end  of  the  week  Dona  Trinidad  died 
suddenly.  She  was  sitting  on  the  green  bench, 
dispensing  charities,  when  her  head  fell  back 
gently,  and  the  light  went  out.  No  death  ever 
had  been  more  peaceful,  no  soul  ever  had  been 
better  prepared  ;  but  wailing  grief  went  after 
her.  Poor  Don  Guillermo  sank  in  a  heap  as  if 
some  one  had  felled  him,  Reinaldo  wept  loudly, 
and  Prudencia  was  not  to  be  consoled.  Cho- 
nita  was  away  on  her  horse  when  it  happened, 
galloping  over  the  hills.  Servants  were  sent 
for  her  immediately,  and  met  her  when  she 
was  within  an  hour  or  two  of  home.  As  she 
entered  the  sala,  Don  Guillermo,  Reinaldo,  and 
Prudencia  literally  flung  themselves  upon  her; 
and  she  stood  like  a  rock,  and  supported  them. 
She  had  loved  her  mother,  but  it  had  always 
been  her  lot  to  prop  other  people  ;  she  never 
had  had  a  chance  to  lean. 

All  that  night  and  next  day  she  was  close- 
ly engaged  with  the  members  of  the  agonized 
household,  even  visiting  the  grief-stricken  In- 


218  The  Doomswoman. 

dians  at  times.  On  the  second  night  she  went 
to  the  room  where  her  mother  lay  with  all  the 
pomp  of  candles  and  crosses,  and  bade  the  In- 
dian watchers,  crouching  like  buzzards  about 
the  corpse,  to  go  for  a  time.  She  sank  into  a 
chair  beside  the  dead,  and  wondered  at  the 
calmness  of  her  heart.  She  was  not  conscious 
of  any  feeling  stronger  than  regret.  She  tried 
to  realize  the  irrevocableness  of  death, — that 
the  mother  who  had  been  so  kindly  an  influence 
in  her  life  had  gone  out  of  it  But  the  knowl- 
edge brought  no  grief.  She  felt  only  the  neces- 
sity for  alleviating  the  grief  of  the  others  ;  that 
was  her  part. 

The  door  opened.  She  drew  her  breath 
suddenly.  She  knew  that  it  was  Estenega. 
He  sat  down  beside  her  and  took  her  hand  and 
held  it,  without  a  word,  for  hours.  Gradually 
she  leaned  toward  him,  although  without 
touching  him.  And  after  a  time  tears  came. 

He  went  his  way  the  next  morning,  but  he 
wrote -to  her  before  he  left,  and  again  from 
Monterey,  and  then  from  the  North.  She  only 
answered  once,  and  then  with  only  a  line. 

But  the  line  was  this  : 

"  Write  to  me  until  you  have  forgotten  me/' 

One  day  she  brought  me  a  package  and  asked 
me  to  take  it  to  Valencia.  "  It  is  an  ointment, " 


The  Doomswoman.  219 

she  said,  —  "  one  of  old  Brigida's"  (a  witch  who 
lived  on  the  cliffs  and  concocted  wondrous 
specifics  from  herbs).  "  Tell  her  to  use  it  and 
her  hair  will  grow  again." 

And  that  was  the  only  sign  of  penitence  I 
was  permitted  to  see. 

Then  for  a  long  interval  there  came  no  word 
from  Estenega. 


220  The  Doomswoman. 


XXVIII. 

BEFORE  going  to  Mexico,  Estenega  remained 
for  some  weeks  at  his  ranches  in  the  North, 
overlooking  the  slaughtering  of  his  cattle,  an 
important  yearly  event,  for  the  trade  in  hides 
and  tallow  with  foreign  shippers  was  the  chief 
source  of  the  Californian's  income.  He  also 
was  associated  with  the  Russians  at  Fort  Ross 
and  Bodega  in  the  fur-trade.  But  he  was  far 
from  being  satisfied  with  these  desultory  gains, 
They  sufficed  his  private  wants,  but  with  the 
great  schemes  he  had  in  mind  he  needed  gold 
by  the  bushel.  How  to  obtain  it  was  a  problem 
which  sat  on  the  throne  of  his  mind  side  by 
side  with  Chonita  Iturbi  y  Moncada.  He  had 
reason  to  believe  that  gold  lay  under  California  ; 
but  where  ?  He  determined  that  upon  his 
return  from  Mexico  he  would  take  measures  to 
discover,  although  he  objected  to  the  methods 
which  alone  could  be  employed.  But,  like  all 
born  rulers  of  men,  he  had  an  impatient  scorn 
for  means  with  a  great  end  in  view.  There 
was  no  intermediate  way  of  making  the  money. 


The  Doomswoman.  221 

It  would  be  a  hundred  years  before  the  country 
would  be  populous  enough  to  give  his  vast 
ranches  a  reasonable  value  ;  and,  although  he 
had  twenty  thousand  head  of  cattle,  the  market 
for  their  disposal  was  limited,  and  barter  was 
the  principle  of  trade,  rather  than  coin. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  month  he  hurried  to 
Monterey  to  catch  a  bark  about  to  sail  for 
Mexico.  The  important  preliminaries  of  the 
future  he  had  planned  could  no  longer  be  de- 
layed ;  the  treacherous  revengeful  nature  of 
Reinaldo  might  at  any  moment  awake  from 
the  spell  in  which  he  had  locked  it ;  had  a  ship 
sailed  before,  he  would  have  left  his  com- 
mercial interests  with  his  mayor-domo  and 
gone  to  the  seat  of  government  at  once. 

He  arrived  in  Monterey  one  evening  after 
hard  riding.  The  city  was  singularly  quiet. 
It  was  the  hour  when  the  indefatigable  dancers 
of  that  gay  town  should  have  flitted  past  the 
open  windows  of  the  salas,  when  the  air  should 
have  been  vocal  with  the  flute  and  guitar,  song 
and  light  laughter.  But  the  city  might  have 
been  a  living  tomb.  The  white  rayless  houses 
were  heavy  and  silent  as  sepulchers.  He  rode 
slowly  down  Alvarado  Street,  and  saw  the  ad- 
vancing glow  of  a  cigar.  When  the  cigar  was 
abreast  of  him  he  recognized  Mr.  Larkin. 


222  The  Doomswoman. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  he  asked. 

"  Small-pox,"  replied  the  consul,  succinctly. 
"  Better  get  on  board  at  once.  And  steer  clear 
of  the  lower  quarter.  Your  vaquero  arrived 
yesterday,  and  I  instructed  him  to  put  your 
baggage  in  the  custom-house.  He  dropped  it 
and  fled  to  the  country. " 

Estenega  thanked  him  and  proceeded  on  his 
way.  He  made  a  circuit  to  avoid  the  lower 
quarter,  but  saw  that  it  was  not  abandoned  ; 
lights  moved  here  and  there.  "  Poor  creat- 
ures ! '"  he  thought,  "  they  are  probably  dying 
like  poisoned  rats." 

On  the  side  of  the  hill  by  the  road  was  a  soli- 
tary hut.  He  was  obliged  to  pass  it.  A  can- 
dle burned  beyond  the  open  window,  and  he 
set  his  lips  and  turned  his  head ;  not  from  fear 
of  contagion,  however.  And  his  eyes  were 
drawn  to  the  window  in  spite  of  his  resolute 
will.  He  looked  once,  and  looked  again,  then 
checked  his  horse.  On  the  bed  lay  a  girl  in  the 
middle  stages  of  the  disease,  her  eyes  glitter- 
ing with  delirium,  her  black  hair  matted  and 
wet.  She  was  evidently  alone.  Estenega 
spurred  his  horse  and  galloped  around  to  the 
back  of  the  hut.  In  the  kitchen,  the  only  other 
room,  huddled  an  old  crone,  brown  and  gnarled 
like  an  old  apple.  She  was  sleeping  ;  by  her 


The  Doomswoman.  223 

side  was  a  bottle  of  aguardiente.  Estenega 
called  loudly  to  her. 

"  Susana  !  " 

The  creature  stirred,  but  did  not  open  her 
eyes.  He  called  twice  again,  and  awakened 
her.  She  stared  through  the  open  door,  her 
lower  jaw  falling,  showing  the  yellow  stumps. 

"Who  is?" 

"Is  Anita  alone  with  you ?  " 

' '  Ay,  yi !  Don  Diego  !  Yes,  yes.  All  run 
from  the  house  like  rats  from  a  ship  that  burns. 
Ay,  yi  !  Ay,  yi !  and  she  so  pretty  before  ! 

A-y,  y-i  ! Her  head  fell  forward  ;  she 

relapsed  into  stupor. 

Estenega  rode  around  to  the  window  again. 
The  girl  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  me- 
chanically pulling  the  long  'matted  strands  of 
her  hair. 

"Water!  water!"  she  cried,  faintly.  "Ay, 
Mary  !  "  She  strove  to  rise,  but  fell  back,  clutch- 
ing at  the  bedclothing. 

Estenega  rode  to  a  deserted  hut  near  by,  con- 
cealed his  saddle  in  a  corner  under  a  heap  of 
rubbish,  and  turned  his  horse  loose.  He  re- 
turned to  the  hut  where  the  sick  girl  lay,  and 
entered  the  room.  She  recognized  him  in  spite 
of  her  fever. 

"  Don  Diego  !     Is  it  you  ? — you  ? "  she  said, 


224  The  Doomswoman. 

half  raising  herself.  ''Ay,  Mary  !  is  it  the  de- 
lirium ? " 

"  It  is  I,"  he  said.  "  I  will  take  care  of  you. 
Do  you  want  water  ?  " 

"Ay,  wrater.  Ay,  thou  wert  always  kind, 
even  though  thy  love  did  last  so  little  a 
while." 

He  brought  the  water  and  did  what  he  could 
to  relieve  her  sufferings  :  like  all  the  rancheros, 
he  had  some  knowledge  of  medicine.  He  held 
the  old  crone  under  the  pump,  gave  her  an 
emetic,  broke  her  bottle,  and  ordered  her  to  help 
him  care  for  the  girl.  Between  awe  of  him 
and  promise  of  gold,  she  gave  him  some  as- 
sistance. 

Estenega  watched  the  vessel  sail  the  next 
morning,  and  battled  with  the  impulse  to  leap 
from  the  window,  hire  a  boat,  and  overtake  it. 
The  delay  of  a  month  might  mean  the  death  of 
his  hopes.  For  all  he  knew,  the  bark  carried 
the  letters  of  his  undoing  ;  Reinaldo  himself 
might  be  on  it.  He  set  his  lips  with  an  expres- 
sion of  bitter  contempt — the  expression  direct- 
ed at  his  own  impotence  in  the  hands  of  Cir- 
cumstance,— and  went  to  the  bedside  of  the 
girl.  She  was  hopelessly  ill  ;  even  medical 
skill,  were  there  such  a  thing  in  the  country, 
could  not  save  her ;  but  he  could  not  leave  to 


The  Doomswoman. 


225 


die  like  a  dog  a  woman  who  had  been  his  mis- 
tress, even  if  only  the  fancy  of  a  week,  as  this 
poor  g-irl  had  been.  She  had  loved  him,  and 
never  annoyed  him  ;  they  had  maintained 
friendly  relations,  and  he  had  helped  her  when- 
ever she  had  appealed  to  him.  But  in  this  hour 
of  her  extremity  she  had  further  rights,  and  he 
recognized  them.  He  had  cut  her  hair  close  to 
her  head,  and  she  looked  more  comfortable,  al- 
though an  unpleasant  sight.  As  he  regarded 
her,  he  thought  of  Chonita,  and  the  tide  of  love 
rose  in  him  as  it  had  not  before.  In  the  begin- 
ning "he  had  been  hardly  more  than  infatuated 
with  her  originality  and  her  curious  beauty  ;  at 
Santa  Barbara  her  sweetness  and  kinship  had 
stolen  into  him  and  the  momentous  fusion  of 
passion  and  spiritual  love  had  given  new 
birth  to  a  torpid  soul  and  stirred  and  shaken 
his  manhood  as  lust  had  never  done  ;  now  in 
her  absence  and  exaltation  above  common  mor- 
tals he  reverenced  her  as  an  ideal.  Even  in  the 
bitterness  of  the  knowledge  that  months  must 
elapse  before  he  could  see  her  again,  the  tender- 
ness she  had  drawn  to  herself  from  the  serious 
depths  of  his  nature  throbbed  throughout  him, 
and  made  him  more  than  gentle  to  the  poor 
creature  whose  ignorance  could  not  have  com- 
prehended the  least  of  what  he  felt  for  Chonita. 
'5 


226  The  Doomswoman. 

She  died  within  three  days.  The  good  priest, 
who  stood  to  his  post  and  made  each  of  his 
afflicted  poor  a  brief  daily  visit,  prayed  by  her 
as  she  fell  into  stupor,  but  she  was  incapable 
of  receiving  extreme  unction.  Estenega  was 
alone  with  her  when  she  died,  but^the  priest 
returned  a  few  moments  later. 

"  Don  Thomas  Larkin  wishes  me  to  say  to 
you,  Don  Diego  Estenega,"  said  the  Father, 
"  that  he  would  be  glad  to  have  you  stay  with 
him  until  the  next  vessel  arrives.  As  two 
members  of  his  family  have  the  disease,  he  has 
nothing  to  fear  from  you.  I  will  care  for  the 
body/' 

Estenega  handed  him  money  for  the  burial, 
and  looked  at  him  speculatively.  The  priest 
must  have  heard  the  girl's  confessions,  and  he 
wondered  why  he  did  not  improve  the  oppor- 
tunity to  reprove  a  man  whose  indifference  to 
the  Church  was  a  matter  of  indignant  com- 
ment among  the  clergy.  The  priest  appeared 
to  divine  his  thoughts,  for  he  said  : 

"Thou  hast  done  more  than  thy  duty,  Don 
Diego.  And  to  the  frailties  of  men  I  think  the 
good  God  is  merciful.  He  made  them.  Go 
in  peace." 

Estenega  accepted  Mr.  Larkin's  invitation, 
but,  in  spite  of  the  genial  society  of  the  consul, 


The  Doomswoman.  227 

he  spent  in  his  house  the  most  wretched  three 
weeks  of  his  life.  He  dared  not  leave  Mon- 
terey until  he  had  passed  the  time  of  incuba- 
tion, having  no  desire  to  spread  the  disease  ; 
he  dared  not  write  to  Chonita,  for  the  same 
reason.  What  must  she  think?  She  supposed 
him  to  have  sailed,  of  course,  but  he  had  prom- 
ised to  write  her  from  Monterey,  and  again 
from  San  Diego.  And  the  uncertainty  regard- 
ing his  Mexican  affairs  was  intolerable  to  a 
man  of  his  active  mind  and  supertense  nervous 
system.  His  only  comfort  lay  in  Mr.  Larkin's 
assurance  that  the  national  bark  Joven  Guipuz- 
coana  was  due  within  the  month  and  would 
return  at  once.  Early  in  the  fourth  week  the 
assurance  was  fulfilled,  and  by  the  time  he  was 
ready  to  sail  again  his  danger  from  contagion 
was  over.  But  he  embarked  without  writing 
to  Chonita. 

The  voyage  lasted  a  month,  tedious  and 
monotonous,  more  trying  than  his  retardation  on 
land,  for  there  at  least  he  could  recover  some 
serenity  by  violent  exercise.  He  divided  his  time 
between  pacing  the  deck,  when  the  weather  per- 
mitted, and  writing  to  Chonita:  long,  intimate, 
possessing  letters,  which  would  reveal  her  to  her- 
self as  nothing  else,  short  of  his  own  dominant 
contact,  could  do.  At  San  Bias  he  posted  his  let- 


228  The  Doomsivoman. 

ters  and  welcomed  the  rough  journey  overland  to 
the  capital ;  but  under  a  calm  exterior  he  was  pos- 
sessed of  the  spirit  of  disquiet.  As  so  often  hap- 
pens, however,  his  fears  proved  to  have  been  va- 
garies of  a  morbid  state  of  mind  and  of  that  habit 
of  thought  which  would  associate  with  every  cause 
an  effect  of  similar  magnitude.  Santa  Ana  wel- 
comed him  with  friendly  enthusiasm,  and  was 
ready  to  listen  to  his  plans.  That  wily  and  astute 
politician,  who  was  always  abreast  of  progress  and 
never  in  its  lead,  recognized  in  Estenega  the  com- 
ing man,  and,  knowing  that  the  seizure  of  the 
Californias  by  the  United  States  was  only  a  ques- 
tion of  time,  was  keenly  willing  to  make  an  ally  of 
the  man  who  he  foresaw  would  control  them  as 
long  as  he  chose,  both  at  home  and  in  Washing- 
ton. For  the  matter  of  that,  he  recognized  the 
impotence  of  Mexico  to  interfere,  beyond  bluster, 
with  plans  any  resolute  Californian  might  choose 
to  pursue;  but  it  was  important  to  Estenega's  pur- 
pose that  the  governorship  should  be  assured  to 
him  by  the  central  government,  and  the  eyes  of 
the  Mexican  Congress  directed  elsewhere.  He 
knew  the  value  of  the  moral  effect  which  its  ap- 
parent sanction  would  have  upon  rebellious  South- 
erners. 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  said  Santa  Ana ;  "  and 
the  governorship  is  yours.     But  take  heed  that  no 


The  Doom  sworn  an.  229 

rumor  of  your  ultimate  intentions  reaches  the  ears 
of  Congress  until  you  are  firmly  established.  If 
it  opposed  you  relentlessly — and  it  keeps  its  teeth 
on  California  like  a  dog  on  a  bone  bigger  than 
himself — I  should  have  to  yield ;  I  have  too  much 
at  stake  myself.  I  will  look  out  that  any  commu- 
nications from  enemies,  including  Iturbi  y  Monc- 
ada,  are  opened  first  by  me." 

Estenega  wrote  to  Chonita  again  by  the 
ship  that  left  during  his  brief  stay  in  the  capital, 
and  it  was  his  intention  to  go  directly  to  Santa 
Barbara  upon  arriving  in  California.  But  when 
he  landed  in  Monterey — disinfected  and  care- 
less as  of  old — he  learned  that  she  was  about 
to  start,  perhaps  already  had  done  so,  for  Fort 
Ross,  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Rotscheffs.  The 
news  gave  him  pleasure ;  it  had  been  his  wish 
to  say  what  he  had  yet  to  say  in  his  own  for- 
ests. 

And  then  the  plan  which  had  been  stirring 
restlessly  in  his  mind  for  many  months  took 
imperative  shape  :  he  determined  that  if  there 
was  gold  in  California  he  would  wring  the  se- 
cret out  of  its  keeper,  by  gentle  means  or  vio- 
lent, and  that  within  the  next  twenty-four 
hours. 


230  The  Doomswoman. 


XXIX. 

ESTENEGA  drew  rein  the  next  night  before  the 
neglected  Mission  of  San  Rafael.  The  valley, 
surrounded  by  hills  dark  with  the  silent  red- 
woods, bore  not  a  trace  of  the  populous  life  of 
the  days  before  secularization.  The  padre 
lived  alone,  lodge-keeper  of  a  valley  of  shad- 
ows. 

He  opened  the  door  of  his  room  on  the  cor- 
ridor as  he  heard  the  approach  of  the  traveler, 
squinting  his  bleared,  yellow-spotted  eyes.  He 
was  surly  by  nature,  but  he  bowed  low  to  the 
man  whose  power  was  so  great  in  California, 
and  whose  generosity  had  sent  him  many  a  bul- 
lock. He  cooked  him  supper  from  his  frugal 
store,  piled  the  logs  in  the  open  fireplace, — 
November  was  come, — and,  after  a  bottle  of 
wine,  produced  from  Estenega's  saddle-bag, 
expanded  into  a  hermit's  imitation  of  convivial- 
ity. Late  in  the  night  they  still  sat  on  either 
side  of  the  table  in  the  dusty,  desolate  room. 
The  Forgotten  had  been  entertained  with  vivid 
and  shifting  pictures  of  the  great  capital  in 


The  Doomswoman.  231 

which  he  had  passed  his  boyhood.  He  smiled 
occasionally;  now  and  again  he  gave  a  quick 
impatient  sigh.  Suddenly  Estenega  leaned 
forward  and  fixed  him  with  his  powerful  gaze. 

"Is  there  gold  in  these  mountains?"  he 
asked,  abruptly. 

The  priest  was  thrown  off  his  guard  for  a 
moment ;  a  look  of  meaning  flashed  into  his 
eyes,  then  one  of  cunning  displaced  it. 

"  It  may  be,  SefiorDon  Diego  ;  gold  is  often 
in  the  earth.  But  had  I  the  unholy  knowledge, 
I  would  lock  it  in  my  breast.  Gold  is  the 
canker  in  the  heart  of  the  world.  It  is  not  for 
the  Church  to  scatter  the  evil  broadcast. " 

Estenega  shut  his  teeth.  Fanaticism  was  a 
more  powerful  combatant  than  avarice. 

"True,  my  father.  But  think  of  the  good 
that  gold  has  wrought  Could  these  Missions 
have  been  built  without  gold  ? — these  thou- 
sands of  Indians  Christianized  ?  " 

"  What  you  say  is  not  untrue  ;  but  for  one 
good,  ten  thousand  evils  are  wrought  with  the 
metal  which  the  devil  mixed  in  hell  and  poured 
through  the  veins  of  the  earth." 

Estenega  spent  a  half-hour  representing  in 
concrete  and  forcible  images  the  debt  which 
civilization  owed  to  the  fact  and  circulation  of 
gold.  The  priest  replied  that  California  was  a 


232  The  Doomsivoman. 

proof  that  commerce  could  exist  by  barter  ;  the 
money  in  the  country  was  not  worth  speaking 
of. 

"And  no  progress  to  speak  of  in  a  hundred 
years," retorted Estenega.  Then  he  expatiated 
upon  the  unique  future  of  California  did 
she  have  gold  to  develop  her  wonderful  re- 
sources. The  priest  said  that  to  cut  California 
from  her  Arcadian  simplicity  would  be  to  start 
her  on  her  journey  to  the  devil  along  with  the 
corrupt  nations  of  the  Old  World.  Estenega 
demonstrated  that  if  there  was  vice  in  the  older 
civilizations  there  was  also  a  higher  state  of 
mental  development,  and  that  Religion  held 
her  own.  He  might  as  well  have  addressed 
the  walls  of  the  Mission.  He  tempted  with  the 
bait  of  one  of  the  more  central  Missions.  The 
priest  had  only  the  dust  of  ambition  in  the  cel- 
lar of  his  brain. 

He  lost  his  patience  at  last.  "I  must  have 
gold,"  he  said,  shortly  ;  "and  you  shall  show 
me  where  to  find  it.  You  once  betrayed  to  my 
father  that  you  knew  of  its  existence  in  these 
hills  ;  and  you  shall  give  me  the  key. " 

The  priest  looked  into  the  eyes  of  steel  and 
contemptuously  determined  face  before  him, 
and  shut  his  lips.  He  was  alone  with  a  des- 
perate man ;  he  tiad  not  even  a  servant ;  he 


The  Doomswoman.  233 

could  be  murdered,  and  his  murderer  go  unsus- 
pected ;  but  the  heart  of  the  fanatic  was  in  him. 
He  made  no  reply. 

"You  know  me, "  said  Estenega.  "I  owe 
half  my  power  in  California  to  the  fact  that  I 
do  not  make  a  threat  to-day  and  forget  it  to- 
morrow. You  will  show  me  where  that  gold 
is,  or  I  shall  kill  you." 

"The  servant  of  God  dies  when  his  hour 
comes.  If  I  am  to  die  by  the  hand  of  the 
assassin,  so  be  it." 

Estenega  leaned  forward  and  placed  his 
strong  hand  about  the  priest's  baggy  throat, 
pushing  the  table  against  his  chest.  He 
pressed  his  thumb  against  the  throttle,  his 
second  ringer  hard  against  the  jugular,  and  the 
tongue  rolled  over  the  teeth,  the  congested 
eyes  bulged.  ' '  It  may  be  that  you  scorn  death, 
but  may  not  fancy  the  mode  of  it.  I  have  no 
desire  to  kill  you,  Alive  or  dead,  your  life  is 
of  no  more  value  than  that  of  a  worm.  But 
you  shall  die,  and  die  with  much  discomfort, 
unless  you  do  as  I  wish."  His  hand  relaxed 
its  grasp,  but  still  pressed  the  rough  dirty 
throat. 

"Accursed  heretic  !  "  said  the  priest. 

"  Spare  your  curses  for  the  superstitious." 
-  He  saw  a  gleam  of  cunning  come  into  the 


234  The  Doomswoman. 

priest's  eyes.      ' '  Very  well  ;  if  I  must  I  must. 
Let  me  rise,  and  I  will  conduct  you." 

Estenega  took  a  piece  of  rope  from  his  sad- 
dle-bag and  tied  it  about  the  priest's  waist  and 
his  own.  "  If  you  have  any  holy  pitfall  in  view 
for  me,  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  your  com- 
pany. And  if  I  am  led  into  labyrinths  to  die 
of  starvation,  you  at  least  will  have  a  meal  :  I 
could  not  eat  you." 

If  the  priest  was  disconcerted,  he  did  not 
show  it.  He  took  a  lantern  from  a  shelf,  lit 
the  fragment  of  candle,  and,  opening  a  door  at 
the  back,  walked  through  the  long  line  of  inner 
rooms.  All  were  heaped  with  rubbish.  In  one  he 
found  a  trap-door  with  his  foot,  and  descended 
rough  steps  cut  out  of  the  earth.  The  air  rose 
chill  and  damp,  and  Estenega  knew  that  the 
tunnel  of  the  Mission  was  below,  the  secret 
exit  to  the  hills  which  the  early  Fathers  built 
as  a  last  resource  in  case  of  defeat  by  savage 
tribes.  When  they  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
steps  the  tallow  dip  illuminated  but  a  narrow 
circle  ;  Estenega  could  form  no  idea  of  the 
workmanship  of  the  tunnel,  except  that  it  was 
not  more  than  six  feet  and  a  few  inches  high, 
for  his  hat  brushed  the  top,  and  that  the  floor 
and  sides  appeared  to  be  of  pressed  clay, 
There  wras  ventilation  somewhere,  but  no 


The  Doomswoman.  235 

light.  They  walked  a  mile  or  more,  and  then 
Estenega.  had  a  sense  of  stepping  into  a  wider 
and  higher  excavation. 

"We  are  no  longer  in  the  tunnel,"  said  the 
priest.  He  lifted  the  lantern  and  swung  it 
above  his  head.  Estenega  saw  that  they  were 
in  a  circular  room,  hollowed  probably  out  of 
the  heart  of  a  hill.  He  also  saw  something 
else. 

"What  is  that?"  he  exclaimed,  sharply. 

The  priest  handed  him  the  lantern.  "Look 
for  yourself,"  he  said. 

Estenega  took  the  lantern,  and,  holding  it 
just  above  his  head  and  close  to  the  walls, 
slowly  traversed  the  room.  It  was  belted  with 
three  strata  of  crystal-like  quartz,  sown  thick 
with  glittering  yellow  specks  and  chunks. 
Each  stratum  was  about  three  feet  wide. 

"There  is  a  fortune  here,"  he  said.  He  felt 
none  of  the  greed  of  gold,  merely  a  recognition 
of  its  power. 

' '  Yes,  senor ;  enough  to  pay  the  debt  of  a 
nation." 

"Where  are  we?  Under  what  hill?  I  am 
sorry  I  had  not  a  compass  with  me.  It  was 
impossible  to  make  any  accurate  guess  of  di- 
rection in  that  slanting  tunnel.  Where  is  the 
outlet  ? " 


236  The  Doomswoman. 

The  priest  made  no  reply. 

Estenega  turned  to  him  peremptorily.  "An- 
swer me.  How  can  I  find  this  place  from  with- 
out ?  " 

' '  You  never  will  find  it  from  without.  When 
the  danger  from  Indians  was  over,  a  pious 
Father  closed  the  opening.  This  gold  is  not 
for  you.  You  could  not  find  even  the  trap-door 
by  yourself." 

"  Then  why  have  you  brought  me  here  ?  " 

"  To  tantalize  you.  To  punish  you  for  your 
insult  to  the  Church  through  me.  Kill  me  now, 
if  you  wish.  Better  death  than  hell." 

Estenega  made  a  rapid  circuit  of  the  room. 
There  was  no  mode  of  egress  other  than  that 
by  which  they  had  entered,  and  no  sign  of  any 
previously  existing.  He  sprang  upon  the 
priest  and  shook  him  until  the  worn  stumps 
rattled  in  their  gums.  "You  dog  !  "  he  said, 
"  to  balk  me  with  your  ignorant  superstition  ! 
Take  me  out  of  this  place  by  its  other  entrance 
at  once,  that  I  may  remain  on  the  hill  until 
morning.  I  would  not  trust  your  word.  You 
shall  tell  me,  if  I  have  to  torture  you. " 

The  priest  made  a  sudden  spring  and  closed 
with  Estenega,  hugging  him  like  a  bear.  The 
lantern  fell  and  went  out  The  two  men  stum- 
bled blindly  in  the  blackness,  striking  the  walls, 


The  Dooms  woman.  237 

wrestling  desperately,  the  priest  using  his  teeth 
and  panting  like  a  beast.  But  he  was  no  match 
for  the  virility  and  science  of  his  young  oppo- 
nent. Estenega  threw  him  in  a  moment  and 
bound  him  with  the  rope.  Then  he  found  the 
lantern  and  lit  the  candle  again.  He  returned 
to  the  priest  and  stood  over  him.  The  latter 
was  conquered  physically,  but  the  dogged  light 
of  bigotry  still  burned  in  his  eyes,  although 
Estenega's  were  not  agreeable  to  face. 
.  Estenega  was  furious.  He  had  twisted  Santa 
Ana,  one  of  the  most  subtle  and  self-seeking 
men  of  his  time,  around  his  finger  as  if  he  had 
been  a  yard  of  ribbon  ;  Alvarado,  the  wisest 
man  ever  born  in  the  Californias,  was  swayed 
by  his  judgment ;  yet  all  the  arts  of  which  his 
intellect  was  master  fell  blunt  and  useless  be- 
fore this  clay-brained  priest.  He  had  more  re- 
spect for  the  dogs  in  his  kennels,  but  unless  he 
resorted  to  extreme  measures  the  creature  would 
defeat  him  through  sheer  brute  ignorance. 
Estenega  was  not  a  man  to  stop  in  sight  of 
victory  or  to  give  his  sword  to  an  enemy  he 
despised. 

' '  You  are  at  my  mercy.  You  realize  that 
now,  I  suppose.  Will  you  show  me  the  other 
way  out  ?  " 

The  priest  drew   down    his  under-lip  like  a 


238  The  Doomswoman. 

snarling  dog,  revealing  the  discolored  stumps. 
But  he  made  no  other  reply. 

Estenega  lit  a  match,  and,  kneeling  beside 
the  priest,  held  it  to  his  stubbled  beard.  As 
the  flame  licked  the  flesh  the  man  uttered  a  yell 
like  a  kicked  brute.  Estenega  sprang  to  his  feet 
with  an  oath.  "  I  can't  do  it !  "  he  exclaimed, 
with  bitter  disgust.  "I  haven't  the  iron  of 
cruelty  in  me.  I  am  not  fit  to  be  a  ruler  of 
men."  He  untied  the  rope  about  the  prisoner's 
feet.  "Get  up,"  he  said,  "  and  conduct  me 
back  as  we  came."  The  priest  scrambled  to 
his  feet  and  hobbled  down  the  long  tunnel. 
They  ascended  the  steps  beneath  the  Mission 
and  emerged  into  the  room.  Estenega  turned 
swiftly  to  prevent  the  closing  of  the  trap-door, 
but  only  in  time  to  hear  it  shut  with  a  spring 
and  the  priest  kick  rubbish  above  it. 

He  cut  the  rope  which  bound  the  other's 
hands.  "Go,"  he  said,  "I  have  no  further 
use  for  you.  And  if  you  report  this,  I  need  not 
explain  to  you  that  it  will  fare  worse  with  you 
than  it  will  with  me." 

The  priest  fled,  and  Estenega,  hanging  the 
lantern  on  a  nail,  pushed  aside  the  rubbish  with 
his  feet,  purposing  to  pace  the  room  until  dawn. 
In  a  few  moments,  however,  he  discovered 
that  the  despised  hermit  was  not  without  his 


77*6'  Doomswoman.  239 

allies  ;  ten  thousand  fleas,  the  pest  of  the 
country,  assaulted  every  portion  of  his  body 
they  could  reach.  They  swarmed  down  the 
legs  of  his  riding-boots,  up  his  trousers,  up 
his  sleeves,  down  his  neck.  ' '  There  is  no  such 
thing  in  life  as  tragedy, "  he  thought.  He  hung 
the  lantern  outside  the  door  to  mark  the  room, 
and  paced  the  yard  until  morning,  But  there 
were  dark  hours  yet  before  the  dawn,  and  dur- 
ing one  of  them  a  figure,  when  his  back  was 
turned,  crept  to  the  lantern  and  hung  it  before 
an  adjoining  room.  When  light  came, — and 
the  fog  came  first, — all  Estenega's  efforts  to  find 
the  trap-door  were  unavailing,  although  the 
yard  was  littered  with  the  rubbish  he  flung  into 
it  from  the  room.  He  suspected  the  trick,  but 
there  were  ten  rooms  exactly  alike,  and  although 
he  cleared  most  of  them  he  could  discover  no 
trace  of  the  trap-door.  He  looked  at  the  hills 
surrounding  the  Mission.  They  were  many, 
and  beyond  there  were  others.  He  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  around  the  buildings,  listen- 
ing carefully  for  hollow  reverberation.  The 
tunnel  was  too  far  below  ;  he  heard  nothing. 

He  was  defeated.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
life  he  was  without  resource,  overwhelmed  by 
a  force  stronger  than  his  own  will ;  and  his 
spirit  was  savage  within  him.  He  had  no 


OF   -i 


240  The  Doomswoman. 

authority  to  dig  the  floors  of  the  Mission,  for 
the  Mission  and  several  acres  about  it  were  the 
property  of  the  Churcru  The  priest  never  would 
take  him  on  that  underground  journey  again, 
for  he  had  learned  the  weak  spot  in  his  armor, 
nor  had  he  fear  of  death.  Unless  accident 
favored  him,  or  some  one  more  fortunate,  the 
golden  heart  of  the  San  Rafael  hill  would  pulse 
unrifled  forever. 


The  Doomswoman.  241 


XXX. 

HE  turned  his  back  upon  the  Mission  and 
rode  toward  his  home,  sixty  miles  in  a  howling 
November  wind.  At  Bodega  Bay  he  learned 
that  Governor  Rotscheff  had  passed  there  two 
clays  before  with  a  party  of  guests  that  he  had 
gone  down  to  Sausalito  to  meet.  Chonita 
awaited  him  in  the  North.  A  softer  mood 
pressed  through  the  somberness  of  his  spirit, 
and  the  candle  of  hope  burned  again.  Gold 
must  exist  elsewhere  in  California,  and  he  swore 
anew  that  it  should  yield  itself  to  him.  The 
last  miles  of  his  ride  lay  along  the  cliffs.  Some- 
times the  steep  hills  covered  with  redwoods 
rose  so  abruptly  from  the  trail  that  the  under- 
growth brushed  him  as  he  passed  ;  on  the  other 
side  but  a  few  inches  stood  between  himself 
and  death  amidst  the  surf  pounding  on  the  rocks 
a  thousand  feet  below.  The  sea-gulls  screamed 
about  his  head,  the  sea-lions  barked  with  the 
hollow  note  of  consumptives  on  the  outlying 
rocks.  On  the  horizon  was  a  bank  of  fog,  out- 
lined with  the  crests  and  slopes  and  gulches  of 
the  mountain  beside  him.  It  sent  an  advance 
16 


242  The  Doomswoman. 

wrack  scudding  gracefully  across  the  ocean  to 
puff  among  the  redwoods,  capriciously  cling- 
ing to  some,  ignoring  others.  Then  came  the 
vast  white  mountain  rushing  over  the  roaring 
ocean,  up  the  cliffs  and  into  the  gloomy  forests, 
blotting  the  lonely  horseman  from  sight. 

He  arrived  at  his  house — a  big  structure  of 
logs — late  in  the  night.  His  servants  came  out 
to  meet  him,  and  in  a  moment  a  fire  leaped  in 
the  great  fireplace  in  his  library.  He  lived 
alone  ;  his  parents  and  brothers  were  dead,  and 
his  sisters  married  ;  but  the  fire  made  the  low 
long  room,  covered  with  bear-skins  and  lined 
with  books,  as  cheerful  as  a  bachelor  could  ex- 
pect. He  found  a  note  from  the  Princess 
Helene  Rotscheff,  the  famous  wife  of  the 
governor,  asking  him  to  spend  the  following 
week  at  Fort  Ross ;  but  he  was  so  tired  that 
even  the  image  of  Chonita  was  dim  ;  the  note 
barely  caused  a  throb  of  anticipation.  After 
supper  he  flung  himself  on  a  couch  before  the 
fire  and  slept  until  morning,  then  went  to  bed 
and  slept  until  afternoon.  By  that  time  he  was 
himself  again.  He  sent  a  vaquero  ahead  with 
his  evening  clothes,  and  an  hour  or  two  later 
started  for  Fort  Ross,  spurring  his  horse  with 
a  lighter  heart  over  the  cliffs.  His  ranches  ad^ 
joined  the  Russian  settlement ;  the  journey 


The  Doomswoman.  243 

from  his  house  to  the  military  enclosure  was 
not  a  long  one.  He  soon  rounded  the  point  of 
a  sloping  hill  and  entered  the  spreading  cove 
formed  by  the  mountains  receding  in  a  semi- 
circle above  the  cliffs,  and  in  whose  shelter  lay 
Fort  Ross.  The  fort  was  surrounded  by  a 
stockade  of  redwood  beams,  bastions  in  the 
shape  of  hexagonal  towers  at  diagonal  corners. 
Cannon,  mounted  on  carriages,  were  at  each  of 
the  four  entrances,  in  the  middle  of  the  enclos- 
ure, and  in  the  bastions.  Sentries  paced  the 
ramparts  with  unremitting  vigilance. 

Within  were  the  long  low  buildings  occupied 
by  the  governor  and  officers,  the  barracks,  and 
the  Russian  church,  with  its  belfry  and  cupola. 
Beyond  was  the  "town,  "a  collection  of  huts 
accommodating  about  eight  hundred  Indians 
and  Siberian  convicts,  the  workingmen  of  the 
company.  All  the  buildings  were  of  redwood 
logs  or  planed  boards,  and  made  a  very  different 
picture  from  the  white  towns  of  the  South. 
The  curving  mountains  were  sombrous  with 
redwoods,  the  ocean  growled  unceasingly. 

Estenega  threw  his  bridle  to  a  soldier  and 
went  directly  to  the  house.  A  servant  met  him 
on  the  veranda  and  conducted  him  to  his  room  ; 
it  was  late,  and  every  one  else  was  dressing 
for  dinner.  He  changed  his  riding-clothes  for 


244  The  Doomswoman. 

the  evening  dress  of  modern  civilization,  and 
went  at  once  to  the  drawing-room.  Here  all 
was  luxury,  nothing  to  suggest  the  privations 
of  a  new  country.  A  thick  red  carpet  covered 
the  floor,  red  arras  the  walls ;  the  music  of 
Mozart  and  Beethoven  was  on  the  grand  piano. 
The  furniture  was  rich  and  comfortable,  the 
large  carved  table  was  covered  with  French 
novels  and  European  periodicals. 

The  candles  had  not  been  brought  in,  but 
logs  blazed  in  the  open  fireplace.  As  Estenega 
crossed  the  room,  a  woman,  dressed  in  black, 
rose  from  a  deep  chair,  and  he  recognized 
Chonita.  He  sprang  forward  impetuously  and 
held  out  his  arms,  but  she  waved  him  back. 

"No,  no,"  she  said,  hurriedly.  "  I  want  to 
explain  why  I  am  here.  I  came  for  two  rea- 
sons. First,  I  could  refuse  the  Princess  Helene 
no  longer  ;  she  goes  so  soon.  And  then — I 
wanted  to  see  you  once  more  before  I  leave 
the  world." 

' '  Before  you  do  what  ?  " 

"I  am  not  going  into  a  convent;  I  cannot 
leave  my  father.  I  am  going  to  retire  to  the 
most  secluded  of  our  ranches,  to  see  no  more 
of  the  world  or  its  people.  I  shall  take  my 
father  with  me.  Reinaldo  and  Prudencia  will 
remain  at  Casa  Grande." 


The  Doomswoman.  245 

" Nonsense!"  he  exclaimed,  impatiently. 
"Do  you  suppose  I  shall  let  you  do  anything 
of  the  sort  ?  How  little  you  know  me,  my  love  ! 
But  we  will  discuss  that  question  later.  We 
shall  be  alone  only  a  few  moments  now.  Tell 
me  of  yourself.  How  are  you  ?  " 

''I  will  tell  you  that,  also,  at  another  time." 

And  at  the  moment  a  door  opened,  and  the 
governor  and  his  wife  entered  and  greeted 
Estenega  with  cordial  hospitality.  The  gover- 
nor was  a  fine-looking  Russian,  with  a  spontane- 
ous warmth  of  manner;  the  princess  a  woman 
who  possessed  both  elegance  and  vivacity, 
both  coquetry  and  dignity  ;  she  could  sparkle 
and  chill,  allure  and  suppress  in  the  same 
moment.  Even  here,  rough  and  wild  as  her 
surroundings  were,  she  gave  much  thought  to 
her  dress  ;  to-night  her  blonde  harmonious 
loveliness  was  properly  framed  in  a  toilette  of 
mignonette  greens,  fresh  from  Paris.  A  moment 
later  Reinaldo  and  Prudencia  appeared,  the 
former  as  splendid  a  caballero  as  ever,  al- 
though wearing  the  chastened  air  of  matri- 
mony, the  latter  pre-maternally  consequential. 
Then  came  the  officers  and  their  wives,  all 
brilliant  in  evening  dress  ;  and  a  moment  later 
dinner  was  announced. 

Estenega  sat  at  the  right  of  his  hostess,  and 


246  The  Doomswoman. 

that  trained  daughter  of  the  salon  kept  the  table 
in  a  light  ripple  of  conversation,  sparkling  her- 
self, without  striking  terror  to  the  hearts  of  her 
guests.  She  and  Estenega  were  old  friends,  and 
usually  indulged  in  lively  sallies,  ending  some 
times  in  a  sharp  war  of  words,  for  she  was  a  very 
clever  woman  ;  but  to-night  he  gave  her  absent 
attention  :  he  watched  Chonita  furtively,  and 
thought  of  little  else. 

Her  eyes  had  darker  shadows  beneath  them 
than  those  cast  by  her  lashes  ;  her  face  was 
pale  and  slightly  hollowed.  She  had  suffered, 
and  not  for  her  mother.  "  She  shall  suffer  no 
more, "  he  thought. 

"  We  hunt  bear  to-night,"  he  heard  the  gov- 
ernor say  at  length. 

"I  should  like  to  go,"  said  Chonita,  quickly. 
"I  should  like  to  go  out  to-night." 

Immediately  there  was  a  chorus  from  all  the 
other  women,  excepting  the  Princess  Helene 
and  Prudencia  ;  they  wanted  to  go  too.  Rots- 
cheff,  who  would  much  rather  have  left  them 
at  home,  consented  with  good  grace,  and 
Estenega's  spirits  rose  at  once.  He  would 
have  a  talk  with  Chonita  that  night,  something 
he  had  not  dared  to  hope  for,  and  he  suspected 
that  she  had  promoted  the  opportunity. 

The  men  remained  in  the  dining-room  after 


The  Doomswoman.  247 

the  ladies  had  withdrawn,  and  Estenega,  re- 
stored to  his  normal  condition,  and  in  his  nat- 
ural element  among  these  people  of  the  world, 
expanded  into  the  high  spirits  and  convivial  in- 
terest in  masculine  society  which  made  him 
as  popular  with  men  as  he  was  fascinating, 
through  the  exercise  of  more  subtle  faculties,  to 
women.  Reinaldo  watched  him  with  jealous 
impatience  ;  no  one  cared  to  hearken  to  his 
eloquence  when  Estenega  talked ;  and  he  had 
come  to  Fort  Ross  only  to  have  a  conversa- 
tion with  his  one-time  enemy.  As  he  listened 
to  Estenega,  shorn,  for  the  time-being,  of  his 
air  of  dictator  and  watchful  ambition,  a  man  of 
the  world  taking  an  enthusiastic  part  in  the 
hilarity  of  the  hour,  but  never  sacrificing  his 
dignity  by  assuming  the  role  of  chief  enter- 
tainer, there  grew  within  him  a  dull  sense  of 
inferiority  :  he  felt,  rather  than  knew,  that 
neither  the  city  of  Mexico  nor  gratified  ambi- 
tions would  give  him  that  assured  ease,  that 
perfection  of  breeding,  that  calm  sense  of 
power,  concealing  so  gracefully  the  relentless 
will  and  the  infinite  resource  which  made  this 
most  un-Californian  of  Californians  seem  to  his 
Arcadian  eyes  a  being  of  a  higher  star.  And 
hatred  blazed  forth  anew. 

As  the  men  rose,  finally,  to  go  to  the   draw- 


248  The  Doomswoman. 

ing-room,  he  asked  Estenega  to  remain  for  a 
moment.  "Thou  wilt  keep  thy  promise  soon, 
no  ?  "  he  said  when  they  were  alone. 

" What  promise?" 

"Thy  promise  to  send  me  as  diputado  to  the 
next  Mexican  Congress." 

Estenega  looked  at  him  reflectively.  He  had 
little  toleration  for  the  man  of  inferior  brain, 
and,  although  he  did  not  underrate  his  power 
for  mischief,  he  relied  upon  his  own  wit  to  cir- 
cumvent him.  He  had  disposed  of  this  one  by 
warning  Santa  Ana,  and  he  concluded  to  be 
annoyed  by  him  no  further.  Besides,  as  a 
brother-in-law,  he  would  be  insupportable  ex- 
cept at  the  long  range  of  mutual  unamiability. 

"I  made  you  no  promise,"  he  said,  deliber- 
ately ;  "and  I  shall  make  you  none.  I  do  not 
wish  you  in  the  city  of  Mexico." 

Reinaldo's  face  grew  livid.  "Thou  darest  to 
say  that  to  me,  and  yet  would  marry  my  sister?  " 

"I  would,  and  I  shall." 

"And  yet  thou  wouldst  not  help  her  brother?" 

"  Her  brother  is  less  to  me  than  any  man 
with  whom  I  have  sat  to-night.  Build  no 
hopes  on  that.  You  will  stay  at  Santa  Barbara 
and  play  the  grand  seigneur,  which  suits  you 
very  well,  or  become  a  prisoner  in  your  own 
house. "  And  he  left  the  room. 


The  Doomswoman.  249 


XXXI. 

AN  hour  later  they  assembled  in  the  plaza  to 
start  for  the  bear  hunt.  Reinaldo  was  not  of  the 
party. 

Estenega  liftedChonita  to  her  horse  and  stood 
beside  her  for  a  moment  while  the  others 
mounted.  He  touched  her  hand  with  his  : 

"  We  could  not  have  a  more  beautiful  night," 
he  said,  significantly.  "And  I  have  often 
wished  that  my  father  had  included  this  spot 
when  he  applied  for  his  grant.  I  should  like  to 
live  with  you  here.  Even  when  the  winds  rage 
and  hurl  the  rain  through  the  very  window 
pane,  I  know  of  no  more  enchanting  spot  than 
Fort  Ross.  The  Russians  are  going  ;  some  day 
I  will  buy  it  for  you." 

She  made  no  reply,  but  she  did  not  with- 
draw her  hand,  and  he  held  it  closely  and 
glanced  slowly  about  him.  Always,  despite  his 
bitter  intimacy  with  life,  in  kinship  with  nature, 
perhaps  in  that  moment  it  had  a  deeper  mean- 
ing, for  he  saw  with  double  vision  :  She  was 
there  ;  and,  with  him,  sensible  not  only  of  the 


250  The  Doomswoman. 

beauty  of  the  night,  but  of  the  indefinable 
mystery  which  broods  over  California  the  mo- 
ment the  sun  falls.  Perhaps,  too,  he  was 
troubled  by  a  vague  foreboding,  such  as  comes 
to  mortals  sometimes  in  spite  of  their  limita- 
tions :  he  never  saw  Fort  Ross  again. 

On  the  horizon  the  fog  crouched  and  moved  ; 
marched  like  a  battalion  of  ocean's  ghosts  ; 
suddenly  cohered  and  sent  out  light  puffs  of 
smoke,  as  from  the  crater  of  a  spectral  volcano. 
The  moon,  full  and  bright  and  cold,  hung  low 
in  the  dark  sky  :  one  hardly  noted  the  stars. 
The  vast  sweep  of  water  was  as  calm  as  a  lake, 
dark  and  metallic  like  the  sky,  barely  reflect- 
ing the  silver  light  between.  But  although 
calm  it  was  not  quiet.  It  greeted  the  forbid- 
ding rocks  beyond  the  shore,  the  long  irregu- 
lar line  of  stark,  storm-beaten  cliffs,  with  omi- 
nous mutter,  now  and  again  throwing  a  cloud 
of  spray  high  in  the  air,  as  if  in  derisive  proof 
that  even  in  sleep  it  was  sensible  of  its  power. 
Occasionally  it  moaned,  as  if  sounding  a 
dirge  along  the  mass  of  stones  which  storms 
had  hurled  or  waves  had  wrenched  from  the 
crags  above, — a  dirge  for  beheaded  Russians, 
for  him  who  had  walked  the  plank,  or  for  the 
lover  of  Natalie  Ivanhoff. 

Here  and  there  the  cliffs  were  intersected  by 


The  Doomswoman.  251 

deep  straggling  gulches,  out  of  whose  sides 
grew  low  woods  of  brush  ;  but  the  three  tables 
rising  successively  from  the  ocean  to  the  forest 
on  the  mountain,  were  almost  bare.  On  the 
highest,  between  two  gulches,  on  a  knoll  so 
bare  and  black  and  isolated  that  its  destiny 
was  surely  taken  into  account  at  creation,  was 
a  tall  rude  cross  and  a  half  hundred  neglected 
graves.  The  forest  seemed  blacker  just  behind 
it,  the  shadows  thicker  in  the  gorges  that 
embraced  it,  the  ocean  grayer  and  more  illimi- 
table before  it.  ''Natalie  Ivanhoff  is  there  in 
her  copper  coffin, "  said  Estenega,  "forgotten 
already. " 

The  curve  of  the  mountain  was  so  perfect 
that  it  seemed  to  reach  down  a  long  arm  on 
either  side  and  grasp  the  cliffs.  The  redwoods 
on  its  crown  and  upper  slopes  were  a  mass  of 
rigid  shadows,  the  points,  only,  sharply  etched 
on  the  night  sky.  They  might  have  been  a 
wall  about  an  undiscovered  country. 

"  Come,"  cried  Rotscheff,  "  we  are  ready  to 
start."  And  Estenega  sprang  to  his  horse. 

"I  don't  envy  you,"  said  the  Princess  Helene 
from  the  veranda,  her  silveren  head  barely 
visible  above  the  furs  which  enveloped  her. 
"  I  prefer  the  fire." 

"You   are  warmly  clad?"  asked  Estenega 


252  The  Doomswoman. 

ofChonita.  "But  you  have  the  blood  of  the 
South  in  your  veins. " 

They  climbed  the  steep  road  between  the 
levels,  slowly,  the  women  chattering  and  ask- 
ing questions,  the  men  explaining  and  advis- 
ing. Estenega  and  Chonita  having  much  to 
say,  said  nothing. 

A  cold  volume  of  air,  the  muffled  roar  of  a 
mountain  torrent,  rushed  out  of  the  forest, 
startling  with  the  suddenness  of  its  impact. 
Once  a  panther  uttered  its  human  cry. 

They  entered  the  forest.  It  was  so  dark 
here  that  the  horses  wandered  from  the  trail 
and  into  the  brush  again  and  again.  Conversa- 
tion ceased  ;  except  for  the  muffled  footfalls  of 
the  horses  and  the  speech  of  the  waters  there 
was  no  sound.  Chonita  had  never  known  a 
stillness  so  profound  ;  the  giant  trees  crowding 
together  seemed  to  resent  intrusion,  to  menace 
an  eternal  silence.  She  moved  her  horse 
close  to  Estenega's  and  he  took  her  hand.  Oc- 
casionally there  was  an  opening,  a  well  of 
blackness,  for  the  moon  had  not  yet  come  to 
the  forest. 

They  reached  the  summit,  and  descended. 
Half-way  down  the  mountain  they  rode  into  a 
farm  in  a  valley  formed  by  one  of  the  many 
basins. 


The  Dooms-woman.  253 

The  Indians  were  waiting,  and  killed  a  bul- 
lock at  once,  placing  the  carcass  in  a  conspicu- 
ous place.  Then  all  retired  to  the  shade  of  the 
trees.  In  less  than  a  half-hour  a  bear  came 
prowling  out  of  the  forest  and  began  upon  the 
meal  so  considerately  provided  for  him.  When 
his  attention  was  fully  engaged,  Rotscheff  and 
the  officers,  mounted,  dashed  down  upon  him, 
swinging  their  lassos.  The  bear  showed  fight 
and  stood  his  ground,  but  this  was  an  occasion 
when  the  bear  always  got  the  worst  of  it.  One 
lasso  caught  his  neck,  another  his  hind  foot, 
and  he  was  speedily  strained  and  strangled  to 
death.  No  sooner  was  he  despatched  than 
another  appeared,  then  another,  and  the  sport 
grew  very  exciting,  absorbing  the  attention  of 
the  women  as  well  as  the  energies  of  the  men. 

Estenega  lifted  Chonita  from  her  horse. 
"  Let  us  walk,"  he  said.  "  They  will  not  miss 
us.  A  few  yards  farther,  and  you  will  be  on  my 
territory.  I  want  you  there." 

She  made  no  protest,  and  they  entered  the 
forest.  The  moon  shone  down  through  the 
lofty  redwoods  that  seemed  to  scrape  its  crys- 
tal ;  the  monotone  of  the  distant  sea  blended 
with  the  faint  roar  of  the  tree-tops.  The  vast 
gloomy  aisles  were  unbroken  by  other  sound. 

He  took  her  hand  and  held  it  a  moment,  then 


254  The  Doomswoman. 

drew  it  through  his  arm.  ' '  Now  tell  me  all, " 
he  said.  "They  will  be  occupied  for  a  long 
while.  The  night  is  ours." 

"I  have  come  here  to  tell  you  that  I  love 
you, "  she  said.  * '  Ah,  can  /make you  tremble  ? 
It  was  impossible  for  me  not  to  tell  you  this  ; 
I  could  not  rest  in  my  retreat  without  having 
the  last  word  with  you,  without  having  you 
know  me.  And  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  have 
suffered  horribly  ;  you  may  care  to  know  that, 
for  no  one  else  in  the  world  could  have  made 
me,  no  one  else  ever  can.  Only  your  fingers 
could  twist  in  my  heart-strings  and  tear  my 
heart  out  of  my  body.  I  suffered  first  because 
I  doubted  you,  then  because  I  loved  you,  then 
the  torture  of  jealousy  and  the  pangs  of  part- 
ing, then  those  dreadful  three  months  when 
I  heard  no  word.  I  could  not  stay  at  Casa 
Grande ;  everything  associated  with  you  drove 
me  wild.  Oh,  I  have  gone  through  all  varie- 
ties !  But  the  last  was  the  worst,  after  I  heard 
from  you  again,  and  all  other  causes  were  re- 
moved, and  I  knew  that  you  were  well  and  still 
loved  me  :  the  knowledge  that  I  never  could  be 
anything  to  you, — and  I  could  be  so  much  ! 
The  torment  of  this  knowledge  was  so  bitter 
that  there  was  but  one  refuge,— imagination. 
I  shut  my  eyes  to  my  little  world  and  lived 


The  Doomswoman.  255 

with  you  ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  grew  into 
absolute  knowledge  of  you.  Let  me  tell  you 
what  I  divined.  You  may  tell  me  that  I  am 
wrong,  but  I  do  not  believe  that  you  will.  I 
think  that  in  the  little  time  we  were  together  I 
absorbed  you. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  that  your  soul  reached  al- 
ways for  something  just  above  the  attainable, 
restless  in  the  moments  which  would  satisfy 
another,  fretted  with  a  perverse  desire  for  some- 
thing different  when  an  ardent  wish  was  grant- 
ed, steeped,  under  all  wanton  determined  en- 
joyment of  life,  with  the  bitter  knowing  of  life's 
sure  impotence  to  satisfy.  Could  the  dissatis- 
fied darting  mind  loiter  long  enough  to  give  a 
woman  more  than  the  promise  of  happiness  ? 
— but  never  mind  that. 

"With  this  knowledge  of  you  my  own  resist- 
less desire  for  variety  left  me  :  my  nature  con- 
centrated into  one  paramount  wish, — to  be  all 
things  to  you.  What  I  had  felt  vaguely  before 
and  stifled — the  nothingness  of  life,  the  inevi- 
tableness  of  satiety — I  repudiated  utterly,  now 
that  they  were  personified  in  you  ;  I  would  not 
recognize  the  fact  of  their  existence.  /could 
make  you  happy.  How  could  imagination 
shape  such  scenes,  such  perfection  of  union, 
of  companionship,  if  reality  were  not?  Im- 


256  The  Doomswoman. 

agination  is  the  child  of  inherited  and  living 
impressions.  I  might  exaggerate  ;  but,  even 
stripped  of  its  halo,  the  substance  must  be 
sweeter  and  more  fulfilling  than  anything  else 
on  this  earth  at  least.  And  I  knew  that  you 
loved  me.  Oh,  I  had  felt  that  !  And  the  va- 
riousness  of  your  nature  and  desires,  although 
they  might  madden  me  at  times,  would  give 
an  extraordinary  zest  to  life.  I  was  The 
Doomswoman  no  longer.  I  was  a  supplemen- 
tary being  who  could  meet  you  in  every  mood 
and  complete  it ;  who  would  so  understand 
that  I  could  be  man  and  woman  and  friend  to 
you.  A  delusion  ?  But  so  long  as  I  shall 
never  know,  let  me  believe.  An  extraordinary 
tumultuous  desire  that  rose  in  me  like  a  wave 
and  shook  me  often  at  first,  had,  in  those  last 
sad  weeks,  less  part  in  my  musings.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  that  was  the  expression,  the  poign- 
ant essence,  of  love  ;  but  there  was  so  much 
else  !  I  do  not  understand  that,  however,  and 
never  shall.  But  I  wanted  to  tell  you  all.  I 
could  not  rest  until  you  knew  me  as  I  am  and 
as  you  had  made  me.  And  I  will  tell  you  this 
too,"  she  cried,  breaking  suddenly,  "  I  wanted 
you  so  !  Oh,  I  needed  you  so  !  It  was  not  I, 
only,  who  could  give.  <  And  it  is  so  terrible  for 
a  woman  to  stand  alone  ! 


The  Doomswomau.  257 

He  made  no  reply  for  a  moment.  But  he 
forgot  every  other  interest  and  scheme  and  idea 
stored  in  his  impatient  brain.  He  was  thrilled 
to  his  soul,  and  filled  with  the  exultant  sense 
that  he  was  about  to  take  to  his  heart  the 
woman  compounded  for  him  out  of  his  own 
elements. 

"Speak  to  me,"  she  said. 

"My  love,  I  have  so  much  to  say  to  you  that 
it  will  take  all  the  years  we  shall  spend  together 
to  say  it  in." 

"No,  no  !  Do  not  speak  of  that.  There  I 
am  firm.  Although  the  misery  of  the  past 
months  were  to  be  multiplied  ten  hundred  times 
in  the  future,  I  would  not  marry  you." 

Estenega,  knowing  that  their  hour  of  destiny 
was  come,  and  that  upon  him  alone  depended 
its  issues,  was  not  the  man  to  hesitate  between 
such  happiness  as  this  woman  alone  could  give 
him,  and  the  gray  existence  which  she  in  her 
blindness  would  have  meted  to  both  :  his  bold 
will  had  already  taken  the  future  in  its  relent- 
less grasp.  But,  knowing  the  mental  habit  of 
women,  he  thought  it  best  to  let  Chonita  free 
her  mind,  that  there  might  be  the  less  in  it  to 
protest  for  hearing  while  his  heart  and  passion 
spoke  to  hers. 

' '  It  seems  absurd  to  argue  the  matter, "  he 
17 


258  The  Doomswoman. 

said,  "but  tell  me  the  reasons  again,  if  you 
choose,  and  we  will  dispose  of  them  once  for 
all.  Do  not  think  for  a  moment,  my  darling, 
that  I  do  not  respect  your  reasons  ;  but  I 
respect  them  only  because  they  are  yours  ;  in 
themselves  they  are  not  worthy  of  consider- 
ation." 

' '  Ay,  but  they  are.  It  has  been  an  unwritten 
law  for  four  generations  that  an  Estenega  and 
an  Iturbi  y  Moncada  should  not  marry ;  the 
enmity  began,  as  you  should  know,  when  a 
member  of  each  family  was  an  officer  in  a  de- 
tachment of  troops  sent  to  protect  the  Missions 
in  their  building.  And  my  father — he  told  me 
lately — loved  your  father's  sister  for  many  years, 
^-that  was  the  reason  he  married  so  late  in  life, 
—and  would  not  ask  her  because  of  her  blood 
and  of  cruel  wrongs  her  father  had  done  his. 
Shall  his  daughter  be  weak  where  he  was  strong  ? 
You  cast  aside  traditions  as  if  they  were  the 
seeds  of  an  apple  ;  but  remember  that  they  are 
blood  of  my  blood.  And  the  vow  I  made, — do 
you  forget  that  ?  And  the  words  of  it  ?  The 
Church  stands  between  us.  I  will  tell  you  all  : 
the  priest  has  forbidden  me  to  marry  you  ;  he 
forbade  it  every  time  I  confessed  ;  not  only  be- 
cause of  my  vow,  but  because  you  had  aroused 
in  me  a  love  so  terrible  that  I  almost  took  the 


The  Doomswomctii.  259 

life  of  another  woman.  Could  I  bring-  you  back 
to  the  Church  it  might  be  different ;  but  you 
rule  others  ;  no  one  could  remould  you.  You 
see  it  is  hopeless.  It  is  no  use  to  argue." 

' '  I  have  no  intention  of  arguing.  Words  are 
too  good  to  waste  on  such  an  absurd  propo- 
sition that  because  our  fathers  hated,  we,  who 
are  independent  and  intelligent  beings,  should 
not  marry  when  every  drop  of  heart's  blood 
demands  its  rights.  As  for  your  vow, — what 
is  a  vow  ?  Hysterical  egotism,  nothing  more. 
Were  it  the  promise  of  man  to  man,  the  subject 
would  be  worth  discussing.  But  we  will  settle 
the  matter  in  our  own  way."  He  took  her 
suddenly  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  She  put 
her  arms  about  him  and  clung  to  him,  trem- 
bling, her  lips  pressed  to  his.  In  that  supreme 
moment  he  felt  not  happiness,  but  a  bitter  desire 
to  bear  her  out  of  the  world  into  some  higher 
sphere  where  the  conditions  of  happiness  might 
possibly  exist.  "On  the  highest  pinnacle  we 
reach/'  he  thought,  "  we  are  granted  the  tor- 
menting and  chastening  glimpse  of  what  might 
be,  had  God,  when  he  compounded  his  victims, 
been  in  a  generous  mood  and  completed  them." 

And  she  ?  she  was  a  woman. 

"  You  will  resist  no  longer,"  he  said,  in  a  few 
moments. 


260  The  Doomswoman. 

"Ay,  more  surely  than  ever,  now."  Her 
voice  was  faint,  but  crossed  by  a  note  of  terror. 
"  In  that  moment  I  forgot  my  religion  and  my 
duty.  And  what  is  so  sweet, — it  cannot  be 
right." 

"Do  you  so  despise  your  womanhood,  the 
most  perfect  thing  about  you  ?  " 

' '  Oh,  let  us  return  !  I  wanted  to  kiss  you 
once.  I  meant  to  do  that.  But  I  should 

not Let  us  go  !  Oh,  I  love  you  so  !  I 

love  you  so  !  " 

He  drew  her  closer  and  kissed  her  until  her 
head  fell  forward  and  her  body  grew  heavy. 
"I  shall  think  and  act  now,  for  both,"  he  said, 
unsteadily,  although  there  was  no  lack  of  de- 
cision in  his  voice.  "You  are  mine.  I  claim 
you,  and  I  shall  run  no  further  risk  of  losing 
you.  Oh,  you  will  forgive  me — my  love — 

Neither  saw  a  man  walking  rapidly  up  the 
trail.  Suddenly  the  man  gave  a  bound  and  ran 
toward  them.  It  was  Reinaldo. 

' '  Ah,  I  have  found  thee, "  he  cried.  ' '  Listen, 
Don  Diego  Estenega,  lord  of  the  North,  Ameri- 
can, and  would-be  dictator  of  the  Californias. 
Two  hours  ago  I  despatched  a  vaquero  with  a 
circular  letter  to  the  priests  of  the  Department 
of  the  Californias,  warning  them  each  and  all  to 
write  at  once  to  the  Archbishop  of  Mexico,  and 


The  Doomswoman.  261 

protest  that  the  success  of  your  ambitions  would 
mean  the  downfall  of  the  Catholic  Church  in 
California,  and  telling-  them  your  schemes. 
Thou  art  mighty,  O  Don  Diego  Estenega,  but 
thou  art  powerless  against  the  enmity  of  the 
Church.  They  are  mightier  than  thou,  and  thou 
wilt  never  rule  in  California.  Unhand  my 
sister  !  Thou  shalt  not  have  her  either.  Thou 
shalt  have  nothing.  Wilt  thou  unhand  her  ?  " 
he  cried,  enraged  at  Estenega's  cold  reception 
of  his  damnatory  news.  "Thou  shouldst  not 
have  her  if  I  tore  thy  heart  from  thy  body. " 

Estenega  looked  contemptuously  across  Cho- 
nita's  shoulder,  although  his  heart  was  lead 
within  him.  "The  last  resource  of  the  mean 
and  down-trodden  is  revenge,"  he  said.  "Go. 
To-morrow  I  shall  horsewhip  you  in  the  court- 
yard of  Fort  Ross." 

Reinaldo,  hot  with  excitement  and  thirst  for 
further  vengeance,  uttered  a  shriek  of  rage  and 
sprang  upon  him.  Estenega  saw  the  gleam  of 
a  knife  and  flung  Chonita  aside,  catching  the 
driving  arm,  the  fury  of  his  heart  in  his  muscles. 
Reinaldo  had  the  soft  muscles  of  the  cabellero, 
and  panted  and  writhed  in  the  iron  grasp  of  the 
man  who  forgot  that  he  grappled  with  the 
brother  of  a  woman  passionately  loved,  remem- 
bered only  that  he  rejoiced  to  tight  to  the  death 


262  The  Doomswoman. 

the  man  who  had  ruined  his  life.  Reinaldo 
tried  to  thrust  the  knife  into  his  back  ;  Este- 
nega  suddenly  threw  his  weight  on  the  arm  that 
held  it,  nearly  wrenching  it  from  its  socket, 
snatched  the  knife,  and  drove  it  to  the  heart  of 
his  enemy. 

Then  the  hot  blood  in  his  body  turned  cold. 
He  stood  like  a  stone  regarding  Chonita,  whose 
eyes,  fixed  upon  him,  were  expanded  with 
horror.  Between  them  lay  the  dead  body  of 
her  brother. 

He  turned  with  a  groan  and  sat  down  on  a 
fallen  log,  supporting  his  chin  with  his  hand. 
His  profile  looked  grim  and  worn  and  old.  He 
stared  unseeingly  at  the  ground.  Choriita 
stood,  still  looking  at  him.  The  last  act  of  her 
brothers  life  had  been  to  lay  the  foundation  of 
her  lover's  ruin  ;  his  death  had  completed  it  : 
all  the  South  would  rise  did  the  slayer  of  an 
Iturbi  y  Moncada  seek  to  rule  it.  She  felt 
vaguely  sorry  for  Reinaldo;  but  death  was 
peace  ;  this  was  hell  in  living  veins.  The  mem- 
ory of  the  world  beyond  the  forest  grew  indis- 
tinct. She  recalled  her  first  dream  and  turned 
in  loathing  from  the  bloodless  selfishness  of 
which  it  was  the  allegory.  Superstition  and 
tradition  slipped  into  some  inner  pocket  of  her 
memory,  there  to  rattle  their  dry  bones  together 


The  Doomswoman.  263 

and  fall  to  dust.  She  saw  only  the  figure,  re- 
laxed for  the  first  time,  the  profile  of  a  man  with 
his  head  on  the  block.  She  stepped  across 
the  body  of  her  brother,  and,  kneeling  beside 
Estenega,  drew  his  head  to  her  breast. 


THE  END, 


OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 


